Beauty and the Beast: Slight Variations of Normal: BK11
by Vetivera
Summary: Catherine tries to piece together the lost memories of her past and Cathy finds her strength and power.
1. Chapter 1

Slight Variations of Normal.

Beauty and the Beast.

'Seriously Jacob…do you expect me to wear the same dress?'

'Well I don't know. You looked lovely last year. Everyone commented on how beautiful you were.'

'Doesn't it strike you as kind of silly to look the same?'

'Well …no.'

Cathy stood, hands on hips, staring at her husband. Despite his amazing powers of deduction and organization Jacob just couldn't fathom why wearing the same dress to a formal function was ok. _Men do it all the time,_ he had reasoned. Cathy knew she was fighting a losing battle. Explanations just flew over his highly logical head.

The bi-annual governors ball was coming up. The two years since the last one had been full of events, both good and challenging for the Wells family. First, Jacob found himself being assigned to defend the state's attorney-general whose wife appeared to be murdered on the very night of the ball. Grateful for his release, the AG offered his beautiful estate for the wedding of Terry and Jason, an event which marked significant change in the health and well being of the marriage of Catherine and Vincent. The wedding also set the stage for Cathy to be reunited with a completely unknown family and the release of her nearly lost heritage.

Then, what started out as a simple request from the Governor for assistance in monitoring one of his charities, turned into a trap set by Gabriel's disenfranchised daughter Susanna. The heinous endeavor nearly destroyed Catherine and Jacob. And yet, despite her best efforts, Susanna could not succeed against the strength and remarkable skills inherited by Jacob. Holly, Cathy's newly discovered sister, was helpful. However veiled knowledge, forged out of the shadows of her own history, revealed Cathy's true heritage. She blossomed into a woman with remarkable skills of her own and together Jacob, Cathy and Holly were find their strength and defeat Susanna without loss of life.

The trio, bound together by past, present, and future ties, were gradually awakened to the ancient secrets which endowed amazing powers of hindsight and foresight. Of the three, Cathy held the knowledge and skill to command change in _the here and now_ but her conscious mind had not fully grasped the extent of the inherited ability. In time, each would evolve and enhance their roles. They did understand that separately they were indomitable but not invincible. In order to be effective, they would have to work together. The trio were just beginning to understand how to use their power for good. Unleashing its resources in the everyday world was not the role or function of their skill set and they remained as normal as three extraordinary people could be.

Away from the job and living in the comfort of a New York brownstone, anyone looking at the Jacob and Cathy would see a taller than average, blond, curly haired, man with piercing blue eyes much like his father and ready smile carved out just like his mother. Beside him always was his wife a curvaceous brunette with long legs and hazel eyes which could change colours to match the mood of the moment. Their marriage was steady and filled with the passion of youth. It would be a mistake to underestimate the good looks for anything other than the luck of inheritance. Behind them and ahead into the future, the young couple would be challenged at every turn. They had no guide book for the work ahead: merely an ancient skill-set which they would need to adapt to life in the 21st century.

However, in the matter of choice between a new dress or not, Cathy's will would be implacable. She continued to stare down her husband. The gauntlet, thrown from eyes suddenly green, forced Jacob to raise his hands in surrender.

'Ok, I concede to having little knowledge about the dress world but if we are going to do this dance you will need to be able to get around comfortably on the dance floor. I just thought that dress was loose and comfortable.'

'Don't worry about me Jacob. You make sure you know your part.'

'Hey listen, I did ok last time.'

Cathy's eyes softened with the sweet memory of their waltz. She had been a nervous wreck, intimidated by the whole event and yet, the strength and love of her husband allowed her to feel like Cinderella at the ball. She smiled into the depths of Jacob's gaze, reaching out to give him a slight tug with her arms.

'I thought you said we shouldn't be so close together for the dance.'

'I don't want to practice dancing anymore.'

Jacob was never slow in divining the needs of his wife in other ways. Pulling her closer he stared at the full lips pouting invitingly and felt his love rise to meet her, more than halfway, at least on this issue.

* * *

'Catherine, when I look at you and see that blank stare, it worries me. Is there something, anything you haven't told me?'

'I admit that my mind wanders. There is so much going on inside my head sometimes. I just have to let go of everything or I feel like I am drowning.'

Vincent cuddled his wife closer to the warmth of his body. He understood exactly what she meant. Twenty years in a coma, hearing voices, and not being able to respond must have left his fragile wife with some form of post traumatic stress. They had been to so many doctors for one complaint or another over the years since her return but getting to the bottom of those lost years was almost impossible. He said little beyond an affirmative grunt. Listening was the best way to allow his wife to unburden herself.

'Words keep coming back to me. Snatches of conversation keep replaying in my mind. I should have forgotten most of it or not remember at all.'

'Catherine?'

'Vincent, I know that Jacob could help me but I don't want to have to share those years with him. I don't know what horrible things were done to me. I don't want him to see it.' Each statement became more emphatic.

'I respect your decision. You are not often introspective but I think that Susanna's intent to hurt you opened so many doors.'

'Yes, yes…. I am angry with myself for not seeing how cruel she was. You would think after what happened to me, my radar on evil would be active. I knew she was mean spirited and sexually deviant but I missed the fire of revenge in her eyes. Howie was just as duped, even though he had his own suspicions.'

Catherine smiled softly in remembrance of her friend, the often harassed State Governor whose horror over the whole event could hardly be assuaged.

'I don't want to think about her, Vincent. To be honest, I am really happy to continue the committee work and make it a reality instead of what it was, a front for Susanna's human trafficking.'

At the mention of the new role, Catherine's eyes lit up. The governor had been so impressed with Catherine, that he offered her the chance to establish and lead a new committee which would truly be a community project focused on helping abducted and abandoned children. Vincent watched the sparkle return. He knew that he could not keep his wife from venturing out into the public domain but he would do everything to ensure her safety in the future. The one area which he could not control was the disjointed memory which plagued her mind.

Since the end of the events which wreaked havoc on the family ended, Vincent had insisted on taking Catherine below to spend more and more time alone in the quiet of the underground tunnels where they first fell in love. His chambers were always a balm to her troubled spirits. The sweet memories of their early days washed over them, almost but not quite, erasing the 20 years of separation. The sounds of pipes clanging with messages, children running and laughing, the steady drip of water in the distance all served to bring a comfort which could not be duplicated anywhere else.

Much of the tunnel community had changed over the years. More and more abandoned children were finding their way out to good homes through Cathy's program at one centre. Those young people and adults remaining behind did so for a variety of reasons but they lived in harmony, sharing everything under the guidance of a counsel whose role was to work towards harmony in all things. The aging patriarch, Jacob Sr. was frail but observed the comings and goings with bright eyes, and a keen mind, despite the weakness in his back. His companion Mary, loved and respected by all as 'Mother' continued to nurture him, dreading the day when he could no longer move to his beloved library and receive news from the members of the community.

If deep and heartfelt sighs could be heard from the second floor of the brownstone, to the depths of the chambers below, it could be imagined that all was well in both worlds.

Jacob discovered in himself, a great love for the 1940's music more in keeping with his grandfather's era. He and Cathy found particular enjoyment in learning moves which, so far, kept them busy in their own apartment. Jacob hoped to display more elegant footwork on the dance floor at the ball. For someone with his agility and extraordinary ability, he shouldn't lack any skill, but being able to jump immense heights was not the same as a one-two-three step. He left the counting in the background of his mind, concentrating instead on finding flow with the lover-wife who matched him every step of the way. She never failed to give of herself freely and openly. They knew, so well, of major responsibilities looming. Only Cathy would recognize when she would be ready to take on the burden of the family, expected of their inherited roles_._ In order to meet the birth requirement of having several children seemed daunting to the couple who were only children growing up.

'Let's_ just practice for now ok?_' Cathy pleaded over and over. Igniting passion was easy. They had time and lots more to do before they would be ready to parent.

Jacob's demanding job as a public defender, was but one issue. His mother's unlikely return from a twenty year coma dictated that he accept the need to learn the ancient skills of his father's people. In today's world he needed to combine the knowledge and expertise of a herbalist, a naturopath and an osteopath. Each of these required study in order for him to understand how he could use certain materials and inherited tactile senses for the good. Late afternoons and weekend mornings found him below in his grandfather's chambers, pouring over books and scrolls, resourcing every avenue of learning, in preparation for the state exams that would give him license to practice. To others, the idea may have seemed a waste of time. After all, his job as a public defender was enough of a career for one man but that was merely a façade, hiding the real aptitude that was his birthright.

Jacob did his job well. The Director of Public Defenders, Kurt Ootes, could not have asked for a better researcher or defender. He depended on his young assistant a great deal, but the dictates of the ancient lion clan held greater sway for Jacob's future. While he did not have to work, the need to excel in all areas was inborn.

As the young couple lay side by side, temporally satiated, their arms and legs entwined, they said little. Their promises to each other had been to limit conversations about the secret powers to a time and place separate from their busy day lives. Decisions about their future were left to meetings with Holly, at her condominium, in the space she set aside for linking, or below in the chambers of Paracelsus where spirits could join and guide. It was a wise decision. Cathy often became agitated. Her inability to access or control the _Diosa_ power, except under duress, left her feeling vulnerable. There was a lot more work to be done on understanding the past and the present and which events could unleash a force, not to be taken lightly.

In the calm aftermath of their desire, Cathy suddenly sat bolt upright. Jacob, half drowsy, was startled.

'We go below!'

Jacob knew that tone. He did not argue. One thing about Cathy's power was the change in speech and facial features. She was inspired by an 'other-worldly' energy. She took on a particular glow when channeling her guide. They quickly dressed and left the house with a wave for Sue and Rob who were sitting in the kitchen chatting over the remains of dinner. Cathy did not lead Jacob across the park to the tunnel entrance as he expected but moved towards the subway which would take them to the chambers of Pater, Jacob's grandfather. He had chosen this space to apply himself to his learning and his work.

To say that Cathy's actions were unusual would have been folly. She had displayed this behaviour before. Jacob realized that Cathy also felt safe below, able to allow the energy to be released from her body in safety. She would receive messages and store them for future action. She would also be a ferocious and demanding lover in the aftermath.

They seemed to move with the speed of lightening through the streets to the underground access. Neither was breathless. Once below, Cathy turned to face Jacob, not her husband but the man she was born to love, had already loved for several eternities. She adopted the pose assigned to her and allowed a flood of light energy to emit from her hands, power centres throughout the body and the crown of her head. The myriad of colours was spectacular.

Jacob sat motionless on the tomb of his grandmother and watched, waiting for the message.

Luminescence was the only word which Jacob could use to describe the vision in front of him. His mind returned to the dreams which he shared with Cathy during the many months of her discovery. Here before his eyes, manifest in the darkness of the tunnel chamber, the phosphorous laden pool of Theodoric and his lover Verananda came to life. Shimmering in waves of rainbow colour flowing outward from her body, the messages of the past were carried within the energy released.

Jacob wondered at the source of the power. Was it internally derived? Uncertain at the fullness displayed for the first time, he watched in awe as Cathy's arms rose and wrapped around her body. Shards of light changed colour in the semi darkness. The aura which surrounded her body held tales of bravery, challenge, fear, courage and power undiminished by the passage of time. He could see spirits rise out of the threads of hair, each one containing the DNA of all ancestors.

Jacob waited, holding his breath at times, at others inhaling deeply, always listening carefully for any message from the guides who supported his transformed wife. Cathy would not remember much but her need to expel the pent up energy was clear. Jacob sighed into the light, wondering with the rational part of his mind, if every time he made love to his wife, she would need to perform some kind of ritual. He could almost hear the phantoms laugh at his absurdity. Taking himself away from the mundane he waited, watching intently. Clearly he was meant to witness the event. Unlike his shimmering wife, his own energies came to him in quiet and in dreams, energy drawn up from the past but Cathy seemed unsure or unaware of the source of her own power.

Instead of trying to analyze something outside of his knowing he settled and waited, keeping ears open.

* * *

Jacob wasn't the only one impacted by the unusual energy. Vincent, born of the same ancestry as Cathy and Jacob, felt the shift when his son and daughter-in-law left the house. He knew when they settled in the uptown chambers of a man Vincent hated but acknowledged as his biological father. The relationship that Jacob held with the spirits of 'Pater' disturbed the father/son dynamic only very slightly. Vincent was able to intuit that his son had another path to follow and one he must determine alone. A watchful eye was the most interference between the generations. In every other way, father and son were in sync. Normally the travels of his son warranted very little attention but the urgency of their trip garnered more than a passing thought.

Vincent looked down at his sleeping wife. He dropped the book of poetry in his hand and gingerly made his way to the entrance of his chambers. In the quiet he could discern Jacob's heart beat. It was steady. He shifted slightly to Cathy's energy and drew back with the force of it. Making sure that Catherine did not miss him at her side, he stepped further into the corridor and waited. The sound of dripping water in the distance felt like thunder in his highly sensitive ears. He leaned back against the stone wall tilting his head back as if absorbing some distant telegraphic memo. Strange words filled his being. None made sense. Every nerve ending tingled. Into his memory bank came the vision of Cathy, newly born, still covered with the amniotic fluid. He saw her mother, so young and vulnerable lying on the bed. He recalled Mary raising the child waiting for the cry which would signal life.

Vincent had no idea why that memory should be so vivid. He thought again of Lena, that beautiful child woman drawn into a life of prostitution through no fault of her own, giving birth to not one but two extraordinary children who would lead the clan. Little did they know the power Cathy held but like another story of a child born into humble circumstances who changed the world, Vincent knew that anything was possible. He did not flinch from the memories. Lena could have been his lover but his heart belonged to one and only one woman. Their reunion after twenty years validated the rightness of his decision. Vincent stayed immobile waiting.

Much further uptown, Holly too was aware that her half-sister was experiencing a catharsis. She had no idea of its source but felt sure that the process was necessary for Cathy to rebirth in her role. The outcome was designed to prepare the woman to become the Diosa, an ancient title, drawn from the guardians of the Lion Clan of ancient Egypt of which they were all members. Holly had been well prepared for her role as the visionary oracle of the trio. Although she could see outcomes, her best skills were only enhanced when she joined Jacob and Cathy in the circle which stood at the crossroads of past, present, and future. Her father Kardin, had nurtured this quality in his child thinking that Holly was the Diosa but for all his skill, he did not realize that the first child born to Lena and Frederick was the legitimate successor to the power of the 'present'.

And, in the heart of India, where Kardin found his redemption, he too awoke in the early morning hours aware of a shift. Deeply sensitive, he, like Vincent did not perceive the change to directly affect his beloved daughter but sensed that Cathy had come into her own being. He would remain vigilant, for whatever affected Jacob and Cathy, also impacted his beloved child and her newborn son. Breathing deeply he sent out his own message of affirmation to Holly assuring her that he was well and attentive, paying special attention to the vibrations.

To say that the shining Diosa, spinning on legs of rainbow colours might have enemies who would wish to destroy may sound foolish. But just as Jacob, Vincent, Holly and Kardin, were aware of the ritual action, others less scrupulous, more intent on harm and control also awoke to the splendid vision of power inherent in her being. They could not usurp that authority, but to mate with such a divine aura would confer that power on a more malleable off-spring.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

Jacob raised a hand and absently pushed away a stray curl. His head was bent forward over his desk, reading a brief that a harassed public defender had dropped there after lunch. The case outlined was not complex but the young attorney seemed to be over his head, looking for a viable defense for a client. His more experienced colleagues had steered him in the direction of Jacob's office where miracles sometimes happened.

Jacob's mind was not fully on his work. His eyes absorbed the written words which implanted ideas and thoughts somewhere in his unconscious but on the surface his brain was littered with visions of his wife twirling in circles and emitting sparks from her body in colours which jumped off her skin like shards of living fire. The whole sequence of events resembled a weird dance with a release of uncontrolled energy. Even more strange was the outpouring of desire which followed. While no healthy male would resist the call to satisfy his wife, Jacob felt as if the lover driving him to ecstasy was not the same woman who made his heart race with love. Because of the uniqueness of their being he felt lost and unable to discuss the strange behaviour with anyone.

The curl fell forward again and he brushed it back with increasing frustration. Jacob knew it was past time to get a haircut. Sue was always ready and willing to perform grooming services for the family. Although the housekeeper had become indispensible in so many other ways, her early years had been spent as a first as a hairdresser then as a practical nurse caring for his comatose mother. After years of personal growth, her multitude of skills were an invaluable resource to the whole family. She often trimmed Jacob's unruly locks. He wasn't sure why there was a hesitation.

Jacob tugged on the errant curl, focusing his mind on the strands of gold for a brief moment. He had read the story of the biblical Sampson and knew that getting a trim was just a matter of accepting his grooming needs and not some event which would render him powerless and yet each time his hair was cut he felt out of sorts for days. The strangeness of the ways in which the mind could absorb one idea and yet hold on to a nonsensical version brought a silly smile to his face.

Mentally laughing off his thoughts and physically shaking off the worry of Cathy's infrequent but troubling metamorphoses into the Diosa persona, he returned to the papers, trying to absorb the inadequate information and knowing immediately that the case could not be won due to an appalling lack of credible evidence. Rising from his desk he went out to the large open room where the PD's were housed. Several men and women were hunched over mounds of paper, books, pencils and laptops trying to find ways to help their clients. In a corner, much like the spot where Jacob settled on his first day on the job, he found the young man, sitting and looking as overwhelmed as he felt.

'Hey Steve, can I talk with you?'

'Yeah, sure Jacob. I guess the information isn't …'

'Let's not start with what it isn't. It is well written but your evidence can't support your case.'

'I just don't know where else to look. My client was caught with stolen goods. He says he doesn't know how they got there and sure his life has been rough but he does day work and odd jobs to make ends meet. He said he doesn't need to steal.'

'Do you believe your client?'

Steve hung his head. 'I don't know. I guess so.'

'Then you shouldn't be defending him. Either you believe what he says and try to find out the chain of events which led him to where he is or accept that he is a felon and work with him to get the best sentence and rehab if he needs it. If you hand this in the way it is, he doesn't have a chance.'

'You mean I should go out and do detective work?'

'I mean you should talk to your client, see what information the police have, then yes, do detective work on his behalf if you need to. Cases don't solve themselves and the prosecutor isn't working for you.'

Jacob dropped the papers on the desk and left. He wasn't unkind but Steve didn't seem to have a clue about his responsibilities. Jacob sighed. He stopped and turned. For a moment, he felt as unsure of where he wanted to go as Steve did about his client's innocence. Instead of returning to his desk immediately he pivoted on his heel and headed towards the office of the Director. He pushed the door ajar and popped his head around the edge to peer into the anteroom.

'Anyone in with the boss?'

'Not like you to drop in Jacob. Is anything wrong?' asked the senior secretary, who seemed to be a perfect fit after a series of empty headed wannabes.'

'Not really. I think I just need a head slap.'

'What? You? Well if that's what you really want you've come to the right place. Just a sec, I'll let him know.'

Jacob offered a half smile and pushed back on the stray curl for the umpteenth time, swearing under his breath as he did so. Within a few seconds he found himself standing in front of Oats, wondering why he elected to disturb his busy boss.

'Well Mohammed to the mountain…what's buggin you?' Oats said barely looking up from the papers on his desk.

'A lack of commonsense! It's fairly basic Oats. You can't defend if you don't make a case. Steve just gave me a pile of sh...'

'Don't say it! Your profanity restraint is one thing I can admire.'

'I think I am moving more towards your way of talking.'

Oats held his tongue. Jacob rarely swore and seldom came to his office. When silence followed the Director pulled off his glasses and invited his assistant to sit.

'To be honest, I was aware of some inadequacies. I was planning on implementing a change. I didn't intend to share it with you just yet but I think it will solve the problem of interns and new grads being unprepared and unmotivated.' Oats stared straight ahead at Jacob. There was a clear challenge in his eyes.

'Aw c'mon Kurt. You aren't going to give me more work are you?'

'More is relative to time and space. Once a month I want you to do some prepping with the new guys. Just pick a topic and review...kind of like a case study. These guys have to get on the ball. I see a trend I don't like and Steve is just a symptom.'

Oats expected a challenge to his directive. More than anyone in the office, he was aware of the unique burdens Jacob had to shoulder at home. In between, the hours he worked in the public defender's office consumed much of his life. That the young man said little, worried him more than an outright refusal.

'What's up Wells? That look on your face is saying something to me.' The long pause and troubled face required a prompt. 'Your Mother?'

Jacob grunted and shook his head.

Despite the outer presentation of a bully, Oats brusque demeanor hid a warm and caring heart which barely concealed a longstanding respect and admiration for Jacob's courageous mother. Relieved that Catherine was not the object of Jacobs concern he turned his attention to the other woman of importance to both of them. Oats' feelings for the abandoned young woman who had once been his most efficient secretary only grew with each passing year. Giving away Cathy on her wedding day, to the young man seated in front of him, had been one of the few real pleasures of his life.

'Don't tell me that Cathy is sick?' he demanded.

'No. I can't say she's sick, but she is different.'

That Jacob's distraction had its roots in the marriage, troubled the director immensely. He said nothing, hoping that Jacob would feel safe in unburdening his concerns.

'Listen, I know that everything she has suffered through these past two years has been extraordinary.' Jacob looked up waiting for the confirming nod before continuing. 'This power which has come to her seems almost uncontrollable.'

'What do you mean? Is she acting crazy? Like a dog with a bone or more like a rabid dog?'

'Really Oats, your dog references are bizarre.'

'Yeah, I know but I understand dogs. Women no!'

Despite feeling some discomfort discussing his wife, Jacob laughed derisively. 'No, she's none of those things.'

'In heat maybe?'

'Kurt!'

'Listen Jacob, I have had three wives and while I have no doubt that you are up to the task, sometimes women have these funny urges. I know you got this strange family thing with kids but maybe she's coming into her time.'

Jacob was thoughtful and did not dismiss Oats words right away. Neither did he want to reveal too much, even to someone he knew he could trust. Family issues were one matter, intimacy another.

'We talked about having kids. We didn't feel ready yet,' he compromised.

'Sometimes the body and mind are not in agreement. In your case, with your history, there may be elements out there which are deciding for you.'

Jacob nodded. Some part of him thought the same. Cathy was unaware of the vibes she gave off when the power entered her body but when she had intellectual control, the birth control pill was popped into her mouth without fail every night. 'Thanks Oats. I'm not sure I could have had this conversation with my Dad, but I appreciate your ...uh...outspokenness.'

'No problem kid. So let's talk about this project to rehabilitate my staff.

Oats was all business again.

* * *

Cathy paced herself along the uptown street. She had done her homework. A dress style which seemed suited to her mood was shown to be available in a small exclusive store. She didn't want to intentionally exclude Catherine from the shopping spree but her mother in law had been under the weather from the stress of Susanna's retaliation and the task of taking on the committee's work. While Catherine needed additional time to rest, those same events caused Cathy to became invigorated. For the past few weeks however, she felt limited in her ability to match the role thrust on her. Instead of shrinking away from the awesome responsibility, she tried hard to remember the strength which carried her through so much of her troubled childhood. She thought of her mother who gave birth to her and Holly under the most trying circumstances. Even though Cathy struggled to accept the limitations of Lena's lhorrific ifestyle, finding her two amazing grandparents in the past year, brought her mother to life in a different way and added to her strength.

An early morning telephone conversation with her grandmother in Canada, brought forth some of that positive energy. Armed with a picture of the perfect dress lodged firmly in her mind and on her cell phone, and the location of the store on her Google map, she found her destination and opened the door, breathing in deeply. An impossibly thin woman, wearing a beautifully cut sheath dress, approached her with barely a smile.

'Madame?'

Cathy paused, not liking the tone. She remembered the obsequious and fawning man at the store where Catherine shopped. She was hoping for more of the same.

'I saw a dress which I would like.'

'We only do fittings by appointment. Did you book a time with our couturier?

'I didn't. I know what | want. I don't need to be fitted.'

'Madame we design everything individually for the client. You WILL have to be fitted.'

Cathy could feel something inside of her rise. The woman wasn't mean but the tone and delivery sent all of Cathy's confidence right back to the tips of her high heeled shoes. As quickly as the feeling sank into her feet, she felt it reverse direction almost immediately and rise like heat in her body. She stared at the woman in front of her, straining with everything inside, to avoid what she could now recognize as a power surge. Cathy said nothing.

Even if she wasn't aware of her behaviour during those events, Cathy knew the outcome and had no desire to track down her busy husband. The woman was not a threat. Somewhere in the recess of her mind she sought for something to trigger a control mechanism. In her clasped fingers she gripped the ring which Jacob had given her pressing the stones into her flesh. She saw the tree where Jacob had offered her the ring as a unique tool to facilitate inner communication. Her breathing slowed and she stared into the ice blue eyes of the strange woman. Cathy watched in amazement as they softened and changed colour.

'I can help you if you follow me. Come this way.'

Cathy was taken aback. She looked around to see if there was someone behind her.

'Madame?'

It took just seconds to sink in. If she could control the power surge whatever the trigger, she could also stall its inevitable flow outward with some focused effort. Judging by the look on the face of the woman, change could happen slowly and more effectively, if she could just get it organized. Still holding on to her fragile self, she created an awareness of every fibre of her body, stilling any further outward movement by sheer will. At the same time she had no wish to send the wrong message to Jacob. There must be an in between force which gave her more control. The revelation was enlightening. Instead of accepting the women's offer, Cathy tilted her head to one side.

'As you said, I don't have an appointment. Thank you.'

She turned and left without another word. The same street which she had just walked appeared different. Almost without thinking she sent a text to Jacob assuring him that she was fine. He would have known about her telepathically, but Cathy sensed that she had found some measure of strength. She could be in command of the energy which threatened to overwhelm her at the strangest moments. There was no need for him to rescue her. She picked up her pace, ignoring everyone and headed towards the building which housed the women's rescue center that she and Holly had organized in honour of their mother Lena.

Cathy should never have tried to move away from the norms in her life. Erin, Holly's mother in law was more than capable of making any dress, especially a dream dress. At the entrance, she pushed the code buttons on the wall and entered the foyer to be greeted by the sights and sounds of a busy women's shelter and mini clothing factory.

In a far off corner, she spotted Holly, with her baby son secured tightly at her bosom. The length of colourful cloth wrapped around her slim body, kept the sleeping infant close to her warmth. Cathy observed the young mother, not as her sister but in a role which consumed most of Holly's waking day. In spite of the demands of the women's centre and plenty of help at home Holly rarely left her infant son with anyone, except his paternal grandmother Erin and a trusted nanny. Cathy felt a pang which she suppressed, turning her attention instead to Erin.

Keeping her focus on the dress, she hailed the busy dressmaker.

'What would you be needing?' Erin asked in her straightforward way.

Cathy took out her cell phone picture and handed it to Erin. 'This, if you think it will look good on me?'

'You can wear anything. What you up to?'

'Something to dance in.'

Erin raised her eyebrows but said nothing more. She gave Cathy a knowing look from head to foot, before walking away. Cathy wondered about the look but ignored it and made her way to the office upstairs. Behind the closed door, she buried her face in her hands, feeling near to tears but refusing to acknowledge any weakness. There was already enough to go around from Catherine's limited energy. Jacob was stretched to the limit of his own personal resources trying to do so much. Cathy knew she couldn't hide what she was feeling forever. As expected, it wasn't long before there was a knock at the door.

Holly entered without the sleeping baby. She meant business.

'You know what's going on with you. Why are you running away from it?'

'Holly, please! I am not ready.'

'But your body is. The rest comes with the experience.'

'You have had a lifetime to get ready for this. I haven't.'

'A lifetime? What are you talking about?'

'I'm talking about this energy that feels like its choking me.'

Holly fell silent. She observed her sister with a curious eye. 'We have clan responsibilities. So far, the demands have not been overwhelming. Whoever is out there, needing to challenge us, still waits. Your energy force has nothing to do with an external source. What you are feeling is an inner pull to fulfill your other role.'

'No Holly.'

'Then accept the consequences of a drive, clearly being misplaced, compelling you to act in ways that are...' Holly threw up her hands and left as quickly as she had come.

Cathy stared at the back of her sister who had turned on her heel, pony tail waving, as she walked out the door. She tried to stifle a laugh. Holly's warning seemed melodramatic. Outside of their ritual meetings, the younger woman was very much a modern feminist. She no longer wore the black wig that her father had forced on her to cover up the gold hair which was a mark of the chosen ones. Holly and Jacob were so much alike. Cathy was different in appearance and yet they all carried the same gene pool of strange skills and weird power.

Cathy ran a nervous tongue over dry lips. She spun around in the desk chair, facing the wall. It was unadorned discouraging invitations to stay and chat. She realized that a lovely office encouraged the women to linger on and on allowing counselling sessions to extend well beyond the allotted time. In order to be helpful she had to often call a halt. Looking at the stark wall painted in a vague beige colour offered nothing but a moment of peace and quiet. Cathy continued to stare at it becoming mesmerized by the nothingness. Almost without thought, she raised her arms and wrapped them around her upper body; a self hug to stave off the uncertainty.

She longed to close her eyes and rest but a need kept her focused on the nothing. Very soon she could hear soft unrecognizable sounds. It wasn't musical but carried on the imaginary wind like a soft pipe. Before long, an image realized itself in a scene which Cathy immediately recognized. Veneranda and Theodoric! Cathy shed some tears for the love story which filled her nights for months. Last time she saw the couple, Theodoric had been wounded and Veneranda kept him alive long enough to pull his weakened body into the phosphorous pool in an effort to save his life.

It wasn't long after that Jacob was shot by Susanna. Then too Cathy held his wound and guided him home washing him from head to foot and offering her love to help heal both the physical and emotional wounds inflicted on him and his mother. She was thankful for the dreamstate lesson which enabled her to act to save her husband, knowing without any training or skill that her energy, manifested through the hands of the Diosa could speed healing in real time. Without realizing it, Cathy's hands dropped from around her shoulders to her belly. Unknown to her, the life barely stirring in its depths, felt comforted.

The image on the wall changed as Cathy perceived her guide, not just as a disembodied voice but in a vision.

'Amatrice', she whispered.

_'Cathy, my child, don't be afraid of all life has to offer. You must accept your time in all things. I will not fail you. Trust that you will be cared for and guided. Close your eyes now. I must give you my blessing.'_

Cathy did as she was told. She felt her body go limp, as if she lost all power. Once she surrendered to the guide, the touch, as light as gossamer, lingered on her head, her breasts, her belly and at her feet before it swirled up and around her legs, thighs, and body, much like a whirlwind. Breathing in softly and slowly, she waited for some minutes before opening her eyes. She had not moved but something had shifted in her body. Uncaring of events outside her room and beyond, she slept peacefully.


	3. Chapter 3

Slight Variations of Normal - Chapter III

The late afternoon nap, designed to restore energy did nothing of the sort. Deep within her dreams Catherine felt as if a bullet- like energy tore unabated through her body. The unusual exit point pulled her from the land of dreams and forced her body bolt upright in the bed. Despite the unusual sensation, Catherine woke without the lethargy of the past weeks. She was feeling refreshed and more alive than she had in weeks.

There was no doubt that the impact of the confrontation with Susanna had been the source of her most recent debilitation. The venom which spewed from the deranged woman's mouth and the threat to Jacob had taken an enormous toll. Vincent and Catherine understood the need for a timeout from everything.

The basis of her sudden wakening had been a strange recreation of the birth of her son, almost like a rebirth. So much of Catherine's memory had been lost, buried for years under the weight of a vegetative coma. After reuniting with her family Catherine suffered an unusual delayed postpartum depression which nearly rent the threads of her fragile relationship with Jacob. However the memories of the actual birth event itself had been seen but not felt. A video of her son's entrance into the world had been saved and hidden away by Diana. When Catherine found the courage to view the sequence of events it had been stressful but necessary for inner healing.

In that moment of awakening, Catherine realized that the re-enactment of the physical birth, even in a dream brought her comfort and a peace she had not known. Superimposed on the squalling face of the baby torn from her arms, was the engaging smile of her brilliant son, so much like his father. Catherine often struggled, wondering how to be a good mother to an adult who grew up motherless and yet accepted her with all his heart and love. She felt lucky and blessed.

The warmth of her thoughts, held her quietly, comforting any inner turmoil and allowing a smile to light up her face. The energy it generated, flowed out to Vincent, working below, trying to finish quickly so as to return and tend to his wife. The smile's energy also flowed out to Jacob reassuring him that his mother was back on track.

Catherine eased her legs over the side of the bed and stretched. A hand involuntarily made its way to her tummy. She could feel the hardened scars where the monster had attempted to cut her open to pull out Jacob when she couldn't push. Everyone of them had been worth it. Without Jacob's silhouette nestling in the background of her coma state, she would never have recovered. Rising to her feet she felt the pulsation of healing energy and welcomed its warmth. Catherine was awake and ready to go to work. She had a lot to catch up.

As she made her way into the kitchen seeking food for the first time in days, Sue's smiling face nodded with approval, welcoming the return of her employer and what she hoped would be a full appetite. The next words uttered by Catherine were balm to the housekeeper whose cooking skills needed very little encouragement.

'What's for dinner Sue? I am so hungry.'

Sue's happy smiling face was its own reward.

* * *

The abrupt knock at the door startled Cathy. The hand that went automatically to her abdomen was quickly withdrawn. She stared at the wall in front of her wondering if she had been sleeping for hours. In fact, a quick glance at her watch showed that only a few minutes had passed. She swiveled in the chair and faced the door calling an automatic 'come in', fully expecting to see her half-sister, back for round two of their fruitless discussion.

'I'm sorry Cath but someone has come in and I think you should see her. She's kind of funny looking. I don't know what to do with her.'

Cathy raised her eyebrows, troubled by the comment and the continued use of the diminutive of her name.

'Does she have kids?'

'Yeah, I put 'em in the playroom to get some juice and sandwiches just in case you want to talk to her private, ok?'

'That's fine.'

'Ya know, she's really weird Cath. She scares me.'

Thanks Carol. I will keep that in mind. I'll be right down.' A slight smile took any dismissiveness out of her tone.

Cathy purposely declined to ask for details about the negative comment. Sometimes, women came to the centre from all over the world and in many circumstances. She would deal with the woman first, then have a word with Carol about respecting differences. Very rarely did the helper refer to someone in negative terms but Carol tended to be outspoken with very few filters on her conversation. It had taken months to clean up her street savvy language. Clearly the newcomer generated suspicion and animosity.

Cathy hated conflict between the women but she was no stranger to it. Newcomers always had a period of adjustment which often caused other long term residents to hold them at a distance. Children sometimes made a difference but not aways. Fear remained the overriding issue for almost everyone.

Before getting up, Cathy turned again in her chair. She stared at the wall for a few seconds. No vision came to mind: nothing resonated with an unspoken plea for clarity on an issue which Cathy could not even articulate. Part of the inner turmoil was disconnected from her consciousness. Sighing at the futility of looking for something which did not exist, she rose from her chair remembering Jacob's words of wisdom. It was impossible for hidden issues to be revealed until all players in a drama were ready.

Remembering the highly charged atmosphere into which her own family secrets were revealed, she realized that her Grandparents had to reconnect in order for her full history to be told.

She rubbed a finger over the lovely emerald ring. The touch of the small stones on the fleshy, sensitive finger tips sent a message to her loving husband.

The room in which the newcomer waited was not business like. Cathy tended to do therapy sessions in her office but intake interviews were conducted in the comfort a a small room furnished with muted colours and a warm welcoming atmosphere. Seated on the small couch was a woman dressed in a dark blue gown and full face burqa. Only a small mesh at the eye level allowed some humanity to show beneath the layers of material. Cathy held her surprise in check. Of the many women who had passed through the center, none had been so fully covered. She had seen other forms of traditional dress but this was a first.

Keeping a respectful distance, Cathy sat on a nearby comfortable chair cater-corner to the woman.

'My name is Cathy. Welcome to LENA. You can tell me as much or as little as you like but first I need a name which I can call you.'

There was a prolonged silence. Cathy waited, the essence of patience. She wasn't sure if the woman understood but gave her enough time to formulate some response.

'Do you understand me? English?'

Cathy stared at the eyes barely visible beneath the mesh. She saw desert sands and worry and fear but chose not to allow anything other than her professional demeanour to service the moment.

"Name? Cathy. You? Any name." Hand gestures aided the simple words.

"Reiba." The voice was barely a whisper.

'Reiba, do you speak or understand English?'

The rustle of material indicated an unclear movement. Cathy couldn't venture a guess as to the response. She spoke softly and slowly hoping that her tone and mannerisms would convey what words could not.

'We have a very small place here for women and children. Our hope is to help you find a place that is safe, but you stay here first.'

There was definitely a rustle beneath the clothes. A whitish piece of material dabbed at the eyes.

'I, thank you.' The words were halting but sincere. Hands appeared. They were soft and unlined. Cathy knew that they had done little hard work. Neither did they reflect age. She wondered about the kids. While her mind was engaged Reiba spoke.

'J'ai tellement peur pour mes enfants. Que va leur arriver?'

Cathy recognized the language but could not decipher the words. She was surprised. Hearing her grandparents speak French and understanding their words came naturally but Reiba's words meant little. She recognized enfants as children but understood nothing else. Cathy was shocked over the next few minutes as the young woman seemed to say more but each time she spoke, it was a different language. Reiba was clearly multilingual but the words had no meaning to the English only listener!

Context was important. There was definitely desperation in the tone.

To avoid frustration, Cathy halted the recital and shook her head. She would need an interpreter. Part of her longed to take the hands and offer some physical comfort but she dared not. Whatever demons drove the woman from her comfortable home, where ever that was, Cathy had no way of knowing whether Reiba would be receptive to physical touch.

Fortunately, there was a knock at the door. To her 'come in', Carol returned with the three children. The olderst appeared to be about ten. He made a beeline for his mother, standing respectfully and protectively at her side. The smaller ones climbed on her knee. They shared a few words. She rubbed a few stray bread crumbs off her son's chin. Looking at them, it was hard to discern anything. They were all different in appearance. Neither eye and hair colour, nor facial constructs were an indication to their origin.

'Carol will take you to a room with beds for you and your children. We will talk tomorrow.'

Cathy smiled. She hoped to be able to have a better conversation with Reiba but clearly a long and dark history accompanied the stooping shoulders and sad eyes. She nodded at Carol indicating that Reiba would stay.

'Is there anyone out there who speaks French Carol?'

Surprisingly, Reiba returned to stand in front of Cathy. 'Please no. You only.'

Cathy held a frown in check. 'OK, but we must be able to speak so I can help you.'

Reiba paused as if she wanted to say more. The material covering moved in affirmation before she returned to her children.

After the door closed behind the unhappy family, Cathy remained in the comfy seat. She was neither thoughtful nor engaged for a while before allowing her mind to problem solve. She wondered if Reiba would be receptive to talking with Holly. Her sister had originally come below in search of sanctuary when her father Kardin tried to force an arranged marriage with a deranged member of the clan. After some minutes of contemplation Cathy rejected the idea. Holly didn't have children then. Her husband Brian, despite his faults, was a loving and kind man towards his family. She would be distressed by a story of abuse and didn't have the counselling experience to offer guidance.

It was clear that nothing could be solved immediately except the need for a translator who would be acceptable to Reiba. Rising from the lounge, she felt a momentary dizziness. Taking a deep breath to dispel the fuzzy head, she touched the emerald ring and sighed deeply before making her way home.

* * *

Jacob sat in his office. He sensed both his wife's unsettled demeanour and his mother's triumphant return from her self imposed emotional retreat. He could avoid neither. Any thought of hiding away below was out of the question. His mother was bubbling over with ideas to share while Cathy would need support. The unruly curl found its way to his restless fingers. The day had alaready been frought with stress. If the truth could find its way to the front of his mind he would admit that his wife's continued preoccupation with her changed status was having an impact. It was to be expected. He recognized that only she could negotiate the ups and downs. In his heart he knew that being supportive was the most important route to take.

The pile of papers which never seemed to reduce in size remained at a manageable level. The decision to call it a day needed no second thought.

* * *

Dinner at the Wells home was usually a series of snatched meals. When major events impacted any individual member, each one seemed to go their own way much to the chagrin of their housekeeper. Sue didn't waste time lamenting or feeling underappreciated. She always had work to do. When Catherine was feeling low, she resumed her role as caregiver. If she were asked however, the days when everyone in the family joined together for a meal were always the best. The talkative, busy young adults were encouraged by their amazing parents to pursue any and all dreams.

Catherine's return to her normal self, made for a lively dinner. She apologized for her time away but no one took notice, especially her husband. He worried of course about the toll on her physical health but sensed the importance of renewal. Vincent listened patiently as Catherine discussed her immediate plans, but a frown marred his impressive features as she rambled on.

'I will go up to Albany to see the Governor before the ball. I am not going to take part in any of the planning for that event but he would like me to chose a new working group from some of the people attending. The ball would be a perfect time to broach the idea with some of the donors.'

'Are you thinking of a day trip Mama?' Jacob hid his concern well.

'No. Patrick has invited us to stay with him. We would go there early in the morning then he and I could travel to Albany and Vincent can explore more of the ranch. We'll stay the night and come back the next day.'

'Vincent?'

'Our stay there was special. I must admit that I would like to see more of the ranch.' The twinkle in his eye was unmistakeable. On their previous visit, the couple had found the intimacy of their marriage. Much of the time had been spent indoors. Vincent was amused to see his wife blush. The rising colour was not lost on anyone.

'Yes well... there is lots to see. Jacob what's happening with you.'

Jacob talked at length about the new crew of PD's at the office. He mentioned Oats assignment.

'Jacob, are you up to more work? You do so much already. What about your studies?'

'Don't worry Mama. I'll be fine.'

'Cathy?'

Alls well Mom. We're busy of course. I'll be interested to hear details of your visit with the Governor. I'm sure we can collaborate.'

'I hope so. We are working towards the same end. Your input will be valuable. By the way, did you think about your dress for the ball?'

'Yes, Erin is making something for me.'

'I am sorry that I wasn't available. I was looking forward to shopping with you again.'

'Ok Mom. Not to worry. She can do one for you too.'

'I'll let you know.'

The conversation flowed back and forth. There was no mention of Susanna or the impact she had on the family. It almost seemed as if Catherine had forgotten. The dream which signalled her return was uppermost in her mind as she stared at her son and his wife. Frowning she began to talk about how she felt earlier in the afternoon.

Cathy gasped as her mother in law recounted the bullet like feeling which woke her.

'I don't know why I felt it so strongly but the sensation of rebirthing you was indescribable.' She directed a long look at her son.

'Mama why now?'

'The time was right. I remember looking at those videos. I saw it, then felt it. To be honest it eased the pain of the reality.' Catherine grabbed Vincent's hand squeezing it fiercely. His loss had been as acute, thinking both were his wife and child were lost to him. 'We must never forget why we are together again. We are 'one' no matter how much others try to separate us.'

The firmness in the voice told Jacob that his mother was indeed back from her profound abyss. He smiled taking her hand across the table.

'Don't worry Mama. We will be fine.'

The dinner was enjoyable after weeks of the insidious stress which ate away at the fabric of the family.

* * *

Although Cathy didn't say much she had participated but Jacob knew her mind was busy elsewhere. He wondered what she would be like when they were alone and braced himself for any persona. To his surprise, his wife seemed much like the Cathy he knew. She discussed the arrival of the woman, covered from head to toe, who seemed educated and yet a victim of the circumstances of her life.

Jacob listened patiently to the story, watching his wife as she successfully kept her inner persona from taking the control.

'There's a long history of something festering in her heart Jacob.' Cathy threw out her hands in entreaty before continuing. 'She trusts me and yet she doesn't know me. The bottom line is that I can't speak with her. I wonder how she expects me to help.'

'You have to find someone else you trust.'

'Like you?'

'I would love to be at your side but I don't have the time right now. Besides, as a man, I think she would be resistant. Is there someone else?'

'Grandmere. I can't ask her to come here just to translate for me.'

'How is it that you understand her but not this woman?'

'I don't know Jacob. It puzzles me but I think I will call her in the morning.'

'Call her now. It isn't that late.' Jacob encouraged Cathy to make contact.

Cathy went to the phone strangely reluctant to ask a favour of someone she hardly knew, despite the blood relationship. Helene on the other hand was delighted to hear from her granddaughter again. The wise woman knew that maintaining the channels of communication was important.

Helene spoke her opening words rapidly and in French. Cathy understood every word.

'Grandmere, why am I able to understand you but not someone else speaking the same language?'

'I would like to believe that it is because we are of the same blood, although I know that factor doesn't really make it possible.'

'No of course not.'

Sensing some uncertainty, not present in their early morning conversation, Helene spoke carefully. 'What do you need ma petite fille?'

'Someone I can trust, to speak with a woman, who trusts no one.'

'A tough assignment Catrine.'

'Yes, I am worried about this client. I sense a long and disturbing history and one which will require a significant amount of support.'

'Is there no one else in New York? Surely you can find someone there?'

'I also have to trust that person.'

'Ah, my love, I am happy to be that person. How can I help?'

Cathy hadn't thought that far ahead. Suddenly she knew that her grandmother's presence would be a balm to her own spirits as well as a practical partner in a very difficult case. It would also necessitate a meeting with Holly but Cathy was prepared to facilitate that step.

'Can you come here?'

'Catrine, you are so like your grandfather and I love you both for your spontaneity. Of course. I will see you tomorrow.

Helene knew in her heart she wanted to be with her long lost and recently unknown granddaughter. Their unusual reunion earlier in the year had been interrupted by the death of Helene's father shortly after the revelation. Despite the fact that Cathy attended the service in Montreal, there had been very little time to chat and get to know each other. Phone calls did not have the same intimacy. The excuse to spend time with her was accepted almost without a second thought. Helene closed with information about a possible flight time. In return, she received assurance that Rob would pick her up at the airport.

Delighted by the response, Cathy turned bright eyes to her husband only to find him sound asleep on the couch.

In Montreal, Helene was thoughtful. The trauma of the past few months weighed heavily on her. There were a lot of fences to mend with her other troubled children. She had been open with them but they continued to hold her responsible for the breakup of the family, even when her pedophile husband had admitted his wrongs. She looked around at the refurbished bungalow, a gift from Cathy's grandfather. As beautiful as it was, nothing meant as much to her as nurturing the relationship with her new- found granddaughter. Cathy could never replace the dead child who ran away from home never to be seen again, but she could assuage Helene's internal guilt. Helene did not even entertain the possibility of meeting her daughter's other child, a new mother herself who had no previous knowledge of the real circumstances of her birth.

Side stepping any further thoughts she made plans to catch the earliest flight in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

Slight Variations of Normal

'I am very excited at the prospect of our little adventure. Are you?'

Vincent couldn't deny some enthusiasm. To respond with a tentative '_yes_' would have taken a little of the shine out of Catherine's eyes. He could never do that.

'I can't wait,' he compromised, keeping his eyes fixed on his wife's face.

'What else would you say? I know you,' she responded with a little push, sensing that Vincent had some misgivings. Catherine, reacting to life in full womanly mode, was definitely a different lady. 'You are only slightly more animated than usual. I may have to question your real desires.'

Vincent moved closer to his wife, holding her shoulders. 'Speaking of animated, when we were talking last night, I saw that you had total recall of our last visit'. The teasing tone invited memory.

'I did. It was a uniquely special event.' Catherine shook her head. 'We won't be able to recreate that time again. It was kind of a fairy tale which happens once in a lifetime.'

'I beg to differ. Our entire life before we were apart and since we have been back together again is a beautiful fairy tale repeating itself every day that we are together.' The look on his face was intense.

Catherine raised a hand to touch the softness of her husband's unique features.

'How different we were before... and since.'

The couple stood together for some time, each filled with their own memories of times past. Catherine, in particular, felt some regret about monopolizing him during their first adventure out of New York City by not giving Vincent a chance to explore the expanse of outdoors. He missed seeing so much of a beautiful, spacious property which was entirely foreign to his normal living environment. When he had been in California, they remained cloistered in a trailer giving him little time to enjoy the mountains. She hoped that previous experiences would not detract from the excitement of getting away.

I very much want you to enjoy some of the things we talked about last time, but you never got to do.'

'I would not change a minute of our first or last experience. My heart was so filled with love for you that I could have been anywhere and it wouldn't have mattered. This time, it will be different. Do what you have to and don't worry about me. Just to be with you, in a different space,' he said waving an arm in a circular motion, 'is enough.'

Catherine knew that she would worry. For someone who lived most of his life below the ground and in the semi-dark, Vincent had very little opportunity to engage the daytime world above. A trip outside of Manhattan was a special treat. Catherine had no fear about their safety. Patrick would ensure that they were afforded every privacy and protection just as he had done for Terry's wedding.

'I think I need about 48 hours to arrange everything. What's happening below?' she asked, knowing that any challenge to the health and well being of 'Father' would be the biggest setback to their time away.

Vincent reassured his wife that there were no pending matters of concern. He knew that the council could handle any issues. In the event of an emergency, Jacob was more than capable of following up. Kissing Catherine, with a kind of breathless anticipation, he found the strength to tear himself away. Vincent could feel the direction of her energy. It was not seeking a few more minutes with him sharing memories. Instead, it was bubbling over with ideas for their trip. For his part, he needed to reassure himself that the world below would feel safe without his presence. Except for his trip to California to reunite with Catherine, he had not left the tunnel community for any extended time until Terry's wedding. Over the two days of the celebration, Vincent gave little thought to life below. The reunited lovers spent much of their free time confined in the delightful trailer rediscovering the physical side of their relationship. The beauty of the land, the joyful celebration, everything paled in comparison. Realizing that he might actually prefer to be locked away with his beautiful wife, Vincent kept his thoughts to himself and offered a peck on the cheek, before leaving the house. He sensed that any desires rising within him would have to take a back seat to the planning.

As she sat down to write out her plans, for the first time since her recovery Catherine gave a thought to the developing relationship between Patrick and Marian. A frown marred her forehead but her heart couldn't deny a certain gladness for the childhood friend who had been more like a brother. After years of celibacy, Patrick was finally able to be with a woman in the full sense of the word and yet Catherine continued to have a nagging doubt about the union. To her surprise, she felt unjustifiably angered and unable to articulate why. The flare of emotion caught her unawares.

Marian's appearance had been instrumental in jogging the memories which lay dormant in Catherine's head during the early part of her recovery from the coma. Marian had also provided access to the best care, in comfortable surroundings. Her agency had been well compensated from the trust fund managed by Joe. Catherine had several reasons to be deeply grateful if only for the decision to bring Terry on board. Without Terry's interventions the return to a normal life may have been longer and more painful, perhaps even impossible. Still a nagging uneasiness could not be stilled. Catherine searched deep within to see if jealousy was at the root of her disquiet. There was none.

Marian's relationship with Patrick, however special, did put a strain on Terry. The agency owner/manager was living a bicoastal existence leaving much of the day to day executive function to her capable assistant who was already busy enough with two small children. Catherine did not want to pass judgment on the working relationship. It wasn't her business but the tension between the two women tended to push Catherine towards a defense of Terry. Such a path would also put her in conflict with Patrick.

Leaving the unsolvable issue, she turned her attention to the upcoming visit to the capital to meet with the Governor. Catherine was certain that she was more than capable of managing the kind of planning and implementation which he expected from a community organization bearing his stamp of approval. All of the effort which she had put into the work with Susanna had not been wasted but the more she could forget and start anew, the brighter the future would be. Not one person from that group would be welcome. Susanna's files contained damming information on everyone of them. Catherine shuddered to think of what the madwoman had conceived in order to entrap her. She felt assured that the doctored nude photos would never be seen again but a nagging doubt about the whereabouts of the originals would always temper her actions. Pushing aside any possibility of further revelations, Catherine sat at her desk, ready to formalize her plan of action.

…..

The pounding heart had little to do with the long walk from the terminal. Hélène felt a rising excitement at the prospect of reconnecting with her newly found granddaughter. So much had happened in such a short period of time. The rent in the fabric of the family was compounded by the knowledge of her eldest daughter's sad life. After the death of her father, Robert Halter, mending fences with her children had been a priority. Because of the trauma inflicted on the family by her former husband, Guy, and his part in the disappearance of Madeleine so many years ago, their four other children revealed major issues which necessitated some deep healing. Progress was slow. The two sons supported Hélène but the daughters were bitter. A reprieve from the endless discussion was much needed.

At the back of her mind was the chance that the other unknown granddaughter might be willing to meet. Hélène chose to ignore that possibility. After years of submerging her perpetual grief and covering up for the inadequacies of her former husband, Hélène was a master at hiding her feelings. According to the little information shared by Cathy, Holly had grown up in an entirely different culture so far removed from the reality of New York. The half sisters were already friends when the truth came to light. Hélène had no such introduction. So as not to be disappointed, Hélène kept her focus on the granddaughter she already knew. To see and know Cathy was a gift. She would wait until a time when Holly would indicate an interest in meeting.

Hélène put on her distance glasses, looking for a sign with her name. Cathy had said that Carl would be waiting inside the terminal. As she approached the waiting area, luggage trailing behind her, she glanced around. An unusual glow drew her attention to one side. The shock was unmistakable. Her heart gave a leap at the vision of her granddaughter standing still, a slight smile warming her features. Helen wondered that no one else seemed to see the light emanating from the body. The unexpected surprise of seeing her was enough to melt away weeks of stress. Taking a deep breath, Hélène made her way to the barrier, releasing the small suitcase to offer wide open arms to Cathy.

Tears fell. Neither spoke. There were no words capable of sustaining the moment.

Cathy could never imagine that reuniting with her grandmother would be so emotional. In her heart she understood that the invitation was necessary but only partially on behalf of Reiba, the deeply troubled Afghan woman. Cathy, herself had needs which could not be articulated; not to herself, nor Jacob. Perhaps her grandmother would help her find a way.

...

Jacob's early morning trip uptown to work was filled with thoughts not aligned with his job. For the first time in a long time, he had fallen asleep on the couch. Surprised that his wife did not wake him up, he slept badly, tossing and turning, his subconscious racked with unfathomable dreams. Fatigue was not something which normally troubled him. And yet, recent events could legitimize his mild debility. With his mind working overtime Jacob realized that intense thought alone could deplete his energy. The desk job and hours of intense study sapped his body of the innate power needed to regenerate its vital force. 'I am getting soft,' he thought disgustedly.

To prove the opposite, Jacob picked up his tempo, moving with increasing speed through the streets. So as not to appear strange, he changed his footwork to one of a jogger, pacing himself. Runners were not an unusual sight on the streets although very few did so in suits. He found a rate which seemed to draw little attention and kept it up. The golden curls still unattended, bounced with a life of their own. Before long, Jacob lost track of time, sight and sound. He could sense himself running in real time but the external scenery changed.

Despite the bright early morning sunshine bathing everything in glorious golden colours, an eerie internal vision was seeing something else. Jacob visioned New York as it was years ago. Modern cars turned into replicas of old fashioned high top vehicles. Horse and buggy teams cantered down the street. The women were dressed in longer, more modest, fashions. No pants suits could be seen. Hats covered every head and they walked in pairs. Men wore full suits. Few people were casually dressed. The street lights were dimmer and many still looked like turn of the century oil lanterns which could be easily extinguished.

Jacob thought about stopping but wasn't sure if he had experienced a time shift or was simply dreaming while moving through the streets. His mind was in the present but his sight was definitely seeing the past. He easily accepted that the shift was precipitated by a need to experience something outside of the ordinary. The gift of hindsight was not something he sought. Events came to him when the situation warranted. In reality Jacob wasn't interested in being involved in the pursuit of another enemy unless it involved the family. His wish was to be a healer, not a crusader but events constantly seemed to conspire against him. At work, he stayed neutral, assisting in the research aspect of law. Cases were managed by other public defenders. He would gave as much support as possible but avoiding courtroom work enabled him to be free to help his family and to complete his own personal studies. He could almost feel the tension welling up inside at the thought of having to get involved in another complex, distracting situation.

He stopped. Shaking his head in an effort to dispel the vision of a 1920's New York failed to subdue the scenery playing like an old black and white movie in his head. No matter how hard he tried, the action would not stop. Pulling back into an alley between some buildings, Jacob waited, resigned to the fact the vision presaged messages that were important and he was to be the recipient.

A group of men, not well dressed but looking appropriate for the time and condition of the city, stood huddled together. They were talking intently. Several non threatening hand movements punctuated the conversation. Jacob observed everything about their stance. It was not a confrontation but a gathering of like minds, trying to hash out a problem. Jacob honed in on his skills for accessing and observing the past. Opening his hearing facility he tried to pick up snatches of the conversation. Once the sound waves were clear, he realized that they were speaking in a foreign language. For the time and place, a foreign language wasn't such a big issue. New City at the turn of the century was home to thousands of immigrants from all over the world who often escaped horrendous conditions in their homeland, only to leave and find life equally distressing in America. However the promise of freedom from racial and religious, persecution was irresistible.

The men didn't seem to be living the promise. Their conversation, though not fully understood, suggested furtiveness and hidden fears. The language was Russian. Thrusting around in his mind, Jacob tried to connect some dots. He knew that there had been a large population of Russian Jews who immigrated to the US first in the late 1800's then again in the 1920's. Xenophobia was rampant, making it difficult for the immigrants to have a good life outside of their tight knit community. Clearly the men had left behind families. They appeared to be struggling to make ends meet. Some food which looked like bread, was passed around, each man taking a little. One of them seemed to be recently landed. Jacob was able to understand that the newcomer had been introduced to the others through an underground network of connections. Another of the men had been the liaison. Pooling their limited knowledge was a way of giving the recent immigrant a chance to find a home, food and compatriots.

As Jacob watched, three men left in one direction. Two remained behind for a longer period, talking animatedly before parting company. It was a strange uninvited interlude in a day which was just beginning. Within seconds, all sight and sound of the past faded to be replaced by a return to the normal sights and activities of the day. Every second of the event was committed to memory. Jacob was certain that the vision was not meant to be an isolated event but he could not find any instance in his life which would explain or merge what he just experienced. Searching through his mind to see if there was anything which seemed plausible, he came up empty. Fear did not enter his mind but he was more cautious as he made his way to work. Uninvited visions were usually a foreboding of trouble.

**….**

'Where are we?' Hélène enquired staring at the small apartment building, with its beautiful frontage.

'Home.'

'But I….I… this isn't the apartment. Has Philippe moved?'

'Oh! No, this is where I live with Jacob.'

'I am sorry ma petite fille. I thought I was to stay at the same place as before. I never asked about where you live. Philippe said that I could stay at his condo if I didn't want to intrude in your home.'

'Intrude? You are my grandmother. I want you to stay with us. It's so important that we have time together.' Cathy looked crestfallen. The anxious look on her grandmother's face was puzzling. Was she wrong in assuming that their relationship was important?

Hélène reached out a hand. 'No my sweet child, I hoped to stay with you but I wasn't sure if you could accommodate me. Philippe offered me a choice if it wasn't possible.'

Cathy was surprised. Her grandfather had seen the house and knew that there was plenty of living space. She decided to ignore his rationale. She reasoned that it could have come out of the strangeness of the situation in which both Hélène and Cathy found themselves. Neither knew of the existence of each other until a few short months ago. To assume anything would have been foolish. She would gently admonish her grandfather when they next spoke but for now, it was important to introduce her grandmother to the family home, then gradually to her real home below.

'Papa worries too much. Women know how to find their way together. Let's go inside.'

Carl had taken out the small suitcase and placed it at the door, waiting for the women to leave the vehicle. He smiled at them, offered a handshake to Hélène before opening the complex front door lock to let them inside. To say that Hélène was awestruck would have been an understatement!

Cathy knew the size and comfort of the small bungalow in Montréal. She and Jacob had slept there during the time they attended the funeral of her great-grandfather. The couple shared a small cot which could barely contain the two bodies but, they slept in the room where her mother had spent a troubled childhood. With Jacob's arms holding her securely, Cathy was able to face the ghosts of her mother's past. She hoped that her grandmother would not feel intimated by the grandeur of the beautiful brownstone. The house belonged to Catherine. That she and Jacob could enjoy its comforts was a matter of appreciative pleasure and something they never took for granted. Cathy knew she could live in a hut with the man she loved.

'Mon Dieu, ma petite fille, quel beau manoir!'

To the woman who struggled all her life to make ends meet, the sheer size was overwhelming. Philippe's condo was spacious but it was part of a larger building. Even his home in California had been impressive, mostly for the view, but nothing to compare with the beauty of the place before her. From the gleaming wood floors to the grandeur of the staircase, Hélène felt as if she could not take a deep breath. In fact, she had expected to enter the door and see stairs leading to various small apartments which the young couple, like many before them, shared, while working and saving for a home of their own. How wrong she had been. Hélène tried not to let shame fall on her for the paucity of her own life's treasures. She could be equally happy for Cathy's success as she had been grateful to Philippe for refurbishing her own very modest home.

As if divining her thoughts, Cathy drew her grandmother into an warm embrace. 'Everything you see here is the result of an enormous emotional cost to Jacob's parents. You will soon know where they are happiest. It's nothing like this even though it is also open to any and all. Let me find my mother-in-law and then I'll take you upstairs where we live.'

An hour later Hélène was still reeling from everything she had heard about the Catherine's amazing recovery. Their last meeting in Philippe's condo had been all about the revelation that Hélène's daughter Lena had survived a fire in an upstate home for runaway children, and eventually gave birth to the beautiful, talented granddaughter smiling contentedly but offering little to the conversation. Catherine had been sitting on the back patio when the two women arrived. The warm, late spring morning was invited them to stay outside and enjoy the beauty of the plants which were just beginning to flower. The sound of soft music in the background rippling along like the small faux waterfall in the garden was the perfect setting to enjoy the reunion. Sue was introduced to Hélène and soon produced a delightful brunch of self serve foods and tea.

'I am astounded Madame that you have survived this horrible experience and still smile.' Hélène offered in stunned disbelief, observing the beautiful elegant woman seated before her.

'Yes, but look what I have come back to. My husband, my son, my wonderful daughter in law, this incredible family life we have and our faithful friends. I could not ask for more.'

Hélène noted that she did not include the trappings of wealth. It was all about the people. Clearly, she had been used to luxury but Hélène felt that Catherine would have been happy anywhere. While the two women were engaged, they did not notice that Cathy had fallen asleep in the comfy garden lounger.

'She works too hard,' Catherine observed quietly, 'and cares too much.'

'I suppose that her life has made her so. She has had much to endure also. I can see that you are wonderful role model for her.'

Hélène stared at her granddaughter. Again she observed that light emanating from her body. It shimmered like gold, even in the morning sun. Gradually the light shifted and held a position around the center of the body. In that moment Hélène instinctively knew that her granddaughter was pregnant! Was Cathy aware? Did Catherine know?

'Hélène, you may remember that Jacob talked about a special role that Cathy was to play in our long and complicated family history.'

'I remember a little of that,' she affirmed turning her attention back to Catherine.

'From time to time, we are at risk of being … assailed by others who want to …. do harm to us.' Catherine waited for the intake of breath. 'Recently we came through another assault, instigated by the daughter of the man who caused my coma. These events take a toll on all of us. The last time, just a few weeks ago, Jacob was injured and Cathy saved the day. He is better but she is still getting her strength back. I don't mean to scare you. This is our life, we understand it, but Cathy, like me, needs time to recuperate, so I am so happy that you are here for her. Your kindness will help her a great deal.'

_No Madame, my granddaughter is pregnant! _Hélène thought.

'Of course, I will do all I can to support her,' she said withholding any other comment. Clearly the news was still a secret.


	5. Chapter 5

SVONV

'Grandmére sounds so formal. Is that what kids call their grandmothers in Quebec?'

'No, not really.' Hélène paused tilting her head to one side. 'I noticed that you used ' Papa' to refer to your grandfather. For women, you can say Mémé. Do you like that better?'

'I do. Jacob calls his mother, Mama. It's old fashioned but very loving. Most of the time when I was growing up I called my mother, Lena. She never seemed to care one way or the other. It was always like something was missing from our relationship but….. don't get me wrong, I know that she cared about me.'

'She did, I am certain of it, ma petite fille. She was always playing with her brothers and sisters. I think that maybe, she just didn't care about herself.'

Cathy had never given much thought to her mother's motives for living her particular lifestyle. Until Jacob came into her life, Cathy often questioned whether Lena even cared that their lives were so high risk. Before Cathy's experience of a stable family life with Jacob and his parents and, more recently, grandparents who were both generous and kind, it seemed difficult to put a different perspective on the challenges of mothering while living in poverty. The daily struggle to survive would override every other need. The day Cathy was attacked by one of her mother's predatory clients, was the first time she had seen Lena make much effort to be protective. That event was the catalyst for the return of Frederick into their lives and the subsequent move to Florida.

The thought of sharing those stories, with anyone created so much internal stress but Terry, and then Jacob listened, in a nonjudgmental way, to the whole sordid tale. Their understanding helped to relieve years of guilt and self blame. Sharing the same story with her grandmother was even more difficult and yet like the others, the kindly matriarch, who wanted to know everything about the daughter who had been lost, listened intently. Unburdening herself gently, with the promise of loving arms nearby, suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world to Cathy's battered and bruised inner child.

As much as she enjoyed being coddled, Cathy was mindful of the reason for the visit and knew that they would soon have to find their way to the Sanctuary. Decisions had to be made about Reiba but not without a complete understanding of what baggage stood between the woman and her past. On the periphery of understanding Reiba's struggle lay the possibility of a meeting between Holly and the grandmother she didn't know. Just by taking the steps to help the displaced woman, Cathy knew she would also be taking on the responsibility of forcing a relationship that may be painful for her half sister.

To avoid any confrontation, Cathy decided that going to the sanctuary at a later hour would avoid an unforced meeting. The two women casually passed the early afternoon just talking and sharing their thoughts, giving her grandmother an outline of the Sanctuary work and discussing what she planned for the future. There was no hint of knowledge or awareness of a pregnancy so Hélène held her tongue and listened, pride shining through for the complex and giving granddaughter who spoke so lovingly about her work.

'I think if we leave at around 3, we should have enough time to chat with Reiba before dinner. She was adamant about not getting an interpreter, so she may not want to talk with you present in the room but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.'

'Sure, as you wish.' Hélène was just happy to share these moments. She would have done anything to ensure the well being of her granddaughter.

...

Despite promises to himself to pay attention to the endless pile of work, the strange time-shift interlude played on Jacob's mind throughout the morning. At lunch time, he stepped out to see if there were more scenes from the past to build on, but nothing occurred. He returned to his office still working on numerous projects but the need to get answers plagued him. At the time when he would normally pack up for the day, Jacob left his office. Instead of heading out to the tunnels to work on his studies, he went upstairs to a different area of the Justice building.

Behind a locked door comprising almost half of an upper floor, there was a massive room filled with shelves lined with boxes of files not yet committed to computers. Much of the information had been classified by various police departments. Details were often peripheral to other more important investigations but not necessarily evidence. Jacob wasn't sure what he would find. He never questioned when his body was moved by some internal directive. His role was to follow the guides who were more than capable of protecting him even while they often drove him to distraction.

After showing his access identification to the clerk, Jacob explained his mission, couched in terms of a research project. As he made his way down the aisles, he kept the scenario in mind and sought the shelves marked with the years 1920-1925. A strange sense of rightness, urged him to stop and remove a particular box from the shelf. He sat on the floor and began to peruse the files, still not sure what led him to that point.

'Can I help you find something?' One of the clerks approached cautiously. He had great respect for Jacob's known reputation but felt irked that the public defender often elected to do research himself.

'No. This stuff is way out of the past but I 'heard' something and I just wanted to check it out.'

'What did you hear?'

Jacob looked up. He fought a strong desire to dismiss the young man but managed to still his impatience. They were likely of the same age and yet Jacob felt years older.

Jacob chose his words carefully. 'I heard some vague conflicting history about the early Jewish refugees and immigrants in New York. Just wondered how they managed and if there was any crime in that community.'

'You could have gotten that info from a google search.'

'Yes, I guess I could have, but I didn't want to.'

It would have been so easy to chase away the clerk with a focused stare but it was clear that his offer of help was genuine. 'Let me look through these files. I'll know what I want when I see it. I can use your help later to delve into this a bit more, if you want.' Jacob watched the face light up. His stare was gentler than normal. _This guy really wants to help,_ he thought.

Jacob was unaware that a significant reputation preceded him everywhere. All the young men and women who had contact with Kurt's assistant were continually talking in awed tones about his ability to cut through crap and get to the heart of a matter. Any number of the interns and clerks in the department would have given anything to work with Jacob on a project. For the young man teetering over his idol, who was seated quite comfortably and casually on the floor, the chance to be a part of some detective/research work was exciting. He hoped the search was a missing link with a current case.

'Ok, I'll be at the front if you need me.'

Jacob nodded and grunted. His eyes were already turned back to the box and the musty, yellowing paper inside. He had no wish to look at each individual sheet. Instead he let his fingers slide over the box in a gentle back and forth motion until some indefinable sensation rose, like an alert which could not be pre-defined. Gradually, a calm settled over him. No sensations immediately coursed through his fingers or body. Eyes closed, Jacob waited, repeating the same action until his left third finger felt a slight tingle. After marking the spot, he grabbed a small pile of papers pulling out approximately twenty sheets and systematically, looking at each one. The ink was faded, barely visible in spots and yet words seemed to fly off one particular piece of paper into his consciousness. Satisfied by what he read, despite the vague references, he noted a few names and dates in his cell phone notebook then returned the papers to their proper place before replacing the box on the shelf.

Jacob was thoughtful. There were dots waiting to be connected but he knew as well as anyone that all players in a drama must come to awareness within a certain period, in order for the full knowledge to be revealed. He thought about how the small gathering of men, whose mini tableau seemed to occur in isolation, could be tied into anything in his current life or recent past. Jacob could think of no immediate connection but he was aware that his grandfather, John Pater, had ties to the Jewish underground and yet the information did not feel personal. He realized that somewhere along the line he would be involved but like everyone else in the drama, he would have to wait and see.

His next move would be a trip to the computer room where classified information was readily available to the Public Defenders on the locked computers. A google search sounded like a good idea. On his way through the door he remembered the young clerk who offered to help. Synchronicity screamed at him. Retracing his steps to the work area, he sought out the young man.

'What's your name?'

'Zigismund but everyone calls me Ziggy.'

'How do you feel about that?'

Ziggy was taken aback. He did not expect to have to offer an opinion. 'I don't know. I just accepted it. Why did you ask?'

'Why didn't you say Ziggy, in the first place.'

'I don't know. I think it's just impossible to lie to you.'

Jacob was thoughtful for a moment. He didn't come to challenge Ziggy but to enlist his help and yet the few words inspired a confidence. He was tempted to extend his hand for a self introduction, then thought better of it. Opting to use a different kind of energy to understand people would be a new challenge.

'Jacob Wells.'

'Zigismund Agron.'

'You offered to help with some research. 'What I'm looking for might not have anything to do with a current case but if you are still interested I would appreciate your help.'

'Is this project on work time?'

'You might get more done in the off hours.'

Ziggy understood that he would be working on his own time but the challenge didn't do anything other than spur him on. He directed Jacob to an area at the end of the counter to talk privately.

'Let's go down to my office and I'll explain what I need.'

Thrilled to be invited into a unique circle, if only temporarily, Ziggy followed Jacob down to his office, feeling a rising sense of excitement.

**...**

'This place is amazing. You continue to surprise me Mignome. How could you organzie all of this?'

'I had a lot of help from Jacob and of course Holly and her husband.'

The mention of the missing granddaughter elicited a moment of awkward silence between the women.

'It will be forever like this Cathy. I accept her. I am patient. If she chooses to embrace me, I will be happy for the three of us and if not I am already deeply grateful to know you and to know that she exists. Please do not feel that you must be careful at every mention of her name.'

'Thank you Meme. I confess that it worries me.'

'Don't let it. This is our time for me to get to know and love you.'

Cathy let her body relax. She was unaware of the tension which held her immobile at times. She had no wish to feel that kind of stress. Taking Helene's arm they moved into the area where Erin operated her mini dress factory. The organization of the relatively small area was breathtaking. Dresses hung from overhead pipes. No two were alike. The women chose their own patterns and material from the piles which were mostly donated to the sanctuary from various companies wanting to get rid of old stock.

Erin appeared, hand held high supporting her trademark plastic bag. 'Here is your dress. Not what you wanted but this is better.'

As usual Erin spoke in a straightforward way, not observing the usual courtesies.

'Thanks Erin. This is my grandmother, Helene.'

'Ma'am.'

Erin nodded in her usual succinct way. She didn't offer a hand to shake but found a small smile to share. The two women had a lot in common but knowing Erin, such a conversation would take time. Holly's new son was related to both women. Cathy took her dress and moved away, not at all surprised to find it completed. Erin had a mind of her own about design but Cathy hoped for something similar in style to her original drawing.

The dress was nothing like what Cathy expected. To start with, it was short, nee length and would wrap around her body rather than fall over her curves. An awful lot of leg was going to be showing. She could barely hide her shock and disappointment.

'Mon Dieu! Quelle belle jupe!'

Helene's outburst drowned out any moan which threatened to leave Cathy's mouth. Helene reached over with an outstretched hand to fully open the bag and view the dress up close.

'You made this Madame?' At Erin's nod, she touched the material at the hem avoiding any contact with the outer material. 'Oh Cherie you will look like a dream. You have beautiful legs. This will show off your body. Oh my, to dance in such a dress.' The sight of her grandmother's awestruck face and the beautiful hands folded on between her breasts drove any negative thoughts out of Cathy's mouth. Indeed, at a second glance she realized that the dress was beautiful. They would not be dancing to a waltz.

'It is lovely Erin. I will try it on later. You are amazing. Did you do this overnight?'

'No, I gotta be honest. I made it a while back. Finished it off last night. I kinda hoped you would wear it one day. You're the reason I am here.'

It was a long personal speech for the reticent woman. Cathy glanced at her grandmother, grateful for the spontaneous intervention which prevented her from expressing an immediate negative reaction. Erin would have been deeply hurt.

'You have supported me in every way Erin. I am grateful for that. This really is beautiful. Thank you.'

Erin moved away. Cathy zipped up the bag, her eyes suspiciously moist. Her grandmother's warm embrace was welcome. The two women made their way upstairs. Reiba's story was waiting to be told. Carol had been asked to prepare the Afghan woman to meet with Cathy. She seated her grandmother in a separate room. In order to prepare herself, Cathy practiced a short speech which would explain what she had planned. She took a deep breath, before entering the room where she hoped Reiba was waiting and ready to share her story.

'I'm sorry, I was looking for someone else.'

'Non Madame Cathy. I am Reiba.'

For the second time in a few minutes, Cathy could not hide her shock nor maintain her equilibrium. This time there was no grandmother to save her.

...

Catherine sat at her desk perusing the items on list. She had one more phone call to make but the timing was set by the Governor's office. A few smaller tasks would be completed quickly, but each depended on when she would meet with Howard Smerconish at the state capital. Catherine allowed her mind to wander, daydreaming about how her personal time would be spent with Vincent. Away from the stresses of the city she hoped for a couple of days filled with the delightful loving they shared on their first trip.

Patrick had a beautiful home, with extensive grounds, highlighted by rolling hills, a horse ranch, a crystal clear mini lake and extensive gardens including an enormous vegetable patch filled with enough produce to support the house, its staff, and their families.

To have the freedom of the outdoor with all its signs and symbols of life in the raw, felt like a treasure to be grasped and savored. Catherine hoped that she and Vincent would be able to do justice to the few short hours available to them. Her mind left the scenery reluctantly. The possibilities stirred emotions and she had no wish to engage her body at that level. She turned instead to a review of her conversation with Helene.

Cathy's grandmother appeared to be a lovely woman. She was sympathetic and empathetic. Catherine felt mesmerized by her beautiful voice and the delightful way in which she spoke her English words. It was clear that her impact on Cathy was a positive one. Catherine had been worried about her daughter-in-law. It would be impossible to miss the periods of mental and emotional absence including her unplanned nap earlier. Catherine wished that she were stronger but her own mental and physical health always seemed to be in jeopardy when the family was challenged. She wished it could be otherwise but she concluded that perhaps a little more attention to Jacob and Cathy's well being wouldn't be amiss.

Minutes ticked relentlessly as Catherine's mind flittered between the past and present. She quickly slipped away from any harsh memories which tended to defeat her natural optimism. As she watched and waited, her final thoughts moved forward to her old friend Patrick. She longed for his complete happiness. Their lives were inextricably bound together in so many ways. She resolved to take a little time and offer her unconditional support for his relationship, despite her unfounded misgivings. The clock struck the hour and her hand reached out to dial the Governor's office. Before her finger could hit the button, she had an unexpected return of the dream sequence which pulled her out of the black hole of despair after Susanna's attack.

Since it had to do with Jacob's birth, she honoured the events of the night, thanking her lucky stars for the second chance to love the son who had been taken from her. Catherine did not dwell on the negative. She wondered why the memory should come to her again. Ignoring any deeper meaning Catherine dialed the number to the Governor's office. Of all the memories which held dominion in her head, she carefully excluded those pertaining to her old friend Howard Smerconish. He had been a geeky intern in her father's office. That he had been attracted to her was obvious but Catherine, though much younger, was far too worldly for the young man just beginning his career.

The synchronicity of his return, along with Patrick seemed to bode well for future projects. His warm welcome over the phone only served to reinforce her feelings.

...

Jacob sat down behind his desk. He wasn't sure how to direct a conversation in which he had no concrete idea of the outcome. He only knew that gathering information would be important and somehow Ziggy would be able to find it. In that moment, he made a decision to be fairly honest, allowing a little access to the inner workings of his mind.

'I have a cast of characters in my head and I am not sure what they are doing.' Jacob felt that he achieved a reasonable compromise to the reality. He handed over a hastily scribbled list to Ziggy's outstretched hand waiting and watching while busy eyes perused the names.

'I can't ask anyone about it because they are all dead!' Jacob threw out the words. He waited. Ziggy didn't flinch from the rather unusual preamble. If anything he sat forward, eyes glittering.

'I understand you perfectly. I think I can help you. I may have access to better resources than what we have upstairs. I can trace family lines and history through our own records.'

Jacob looked puzzled. 'I don't understand.'

'The names you have on your list are Russian Jewish names. I am a descendant of some of those early refugees.'

'I am sorry Ziggy. I didn't even connect you in that way to my project but if you have any insight how I can obtain information, I'll be grateful.' Ziggy smiled with increasing confidence. He was seeing an opportunity and chose to take it.

Jacob observed the smile and wondered what synchronicity brought the clerk into his life. He would not question it, but rather just accept. He was about to reach over the desk and shake Ziggy's hand when ringing in his ears brought him up short. Once again, the missed handshake might have opened a history which could have negated the clerks usefulness. The focus instead was a piercing sound. High pitched frequencies played on his nerves. Jacob had always found them irritating. Within seconds a feeling of dizziness washed over him, clouding his thoughts. He wondered if another vision was coming. It would be awkward to appear spaced out in front of the clerk.

Ziggy was still smiling, as if nothing untoward was happening. Jacob retreated from the present and went inside himself searching for an explanation.**_'Cathy!'_** The name pounded in his ears carrying his thoughts along a silent connection to his wife.

'Emergency! Gotta go! We'll talk tomorrow.'

Jacob made no apology for his abruptness. He didn't wait to see Ziggy out, nor did he offer any further explanation. For just a moment, the young man wondered if you had been mistaken about Jacob. In that moment the Director's assistant seemed like a man possessed by a strange entity which controlled and manipulated, producing some odd behavior. Ziggy rose slowly and followed Jacob out of the open office door. It shut behind him with a resounding thud. He stared down the hall at the retreating back and bobbing curls. Before Ziggy could formulate another thought, he watched Jacob stop and turn as if he had forgotten something. Ziggy smiled in response and waved back, grateful for the opportunity to work with the Director's assistant.

Satisfied that he had erased his perplexing behavior from Ziggy's consciousness, Jacob hurried towards his rooftop perch, intending, with a single minded determination, to reach his unconscious wife before she came to any further harm.


	6. Chapter 6

Cathy heard the 'click-clack' of her grandmother's rapid footsteps drawing closer but with an echo, as if approaching from some distant place. Muffled agitated voices could be heard. Words flew around and over her head. Although semi-conscious, she had little choice but to slip into oblivion rather than trying to rectify events. And yet, obligations held her in a twilight state. Some part of her mind remembered that _'Reiba'_ was waiting to be helped. Cathy tried without success to stay present but sweet memories of Theodoric and Veneranda pulled her back into the past. She watched from an unnamed astral perch as the reunited couple frolicked in the warm, blue-green phosphorous water. Lovely visions of their amazing fight to be together brought a smile to Cathy's face.

For those bending over the prone figure, the half smile was disconcerting in the ghostly white face. Hélène had forgotten all about her assigned role when she heard the scream, followed by a thud, coming from the room down the hall. She was on her feet and standing over her granddaughter before the other occupant of the room could cry out or utter the scream which hovered on her lips. Despite her age, Hélène was on her knees in a heartbeat cradling the head and calling Cathy's name in urgent tones.

'My child! Cherie? What's happening?' It was clear from the limp body that Cathy had completely lost consciousness. In her worry, Hélène rattled off a stream of French endearments hoping that she could reach through the fog and encourage Cathy to return. Uppermost in her mind was the need to ensure sufficient oxygenation to a growing baby whose existence seemed hidden from its mother. An unexpected response to her words halted the entreaties.

'Is she alright? What happened to her?' the soft voice inquired with an unexpected urgency.

'She's over tired. Works too hard.' Hélène replied in French without giving a second thought to the source of the inquiry.

'Madame, I think she is pregnant.'

'What? How do you know?' Hélène turned around and came face to face with an odd looking persona draped from head to foot, in the strangest outfit. Without waiting for an answer, she posed another. 'Perhaps you could get some help, a cold cloth, a glass of water, anything?'

Hélène watched the woman turn around as if lost. She had no idea who the stranger was but assumed that she must a resident. On second thought, Hélène paused to make a more thorough assessment. Her French had been impeccable. _Could this be the client she was to see?_ The worried grandmother really had no time to dwell matter. She turned back to attend to her granddaughter surprised to see that Cathy was still immobile. To leave her and go downstairs for help was not an option. Glancing around, she couldn't see a phone on the corridor walls nor in the room. Hélène was feeling impotent. Too much time had lapsed without visible signs of recovery. The sound of other footsteps, approaching from the far end of the hallway, brought an immediate measure of relief. One look at Jacob's worried face was enough to ease her mind. It was clear that he already knew his wife was in trouble.

'Did you see what happened?' Jacob asked kneeling down on the floor.

'I am not so sure. I wasn't with her but this lady was ...' Hélène looked up surprised to find the woman gone. For a moment she wondered if there had ever been anyone standing in the room.

Jacob picked up his wife and held her tenderly in his arms. Her eyes fluttered, flooding his body with a profound relief. He moved towards the small couch. Her body was too long to accommodate full length on the couch. Jacob elected to sit down, without releasing his hold. He rested her body against his before tilting her head onto his shoulder.

Cathy's face in repose is beautiful he thought touching the colourless lips tenderly_. Why didn't I see how worried she's been? _ Despite the extreme pallor, punctuated by dark circles under the eyes, the stress lines of recent weeks had completely disappeared.

Jacob looked at Hélène. He longed to say something, anything but he could not find words to express the rising fear which drove him to Cathy's side, nor the love he felt surging within him for the life and the gifts they shared. Hélène seated herself in a chair close by and waited for Jacob to ask any question which would give her a clue about his understanding. When he didn't immediately ask for details about the circumstances she offered a little information.

'Really, I don' t know what happened. She was fine before we came upstairs. I was waiting for her to call me for the interview when I heard a cry, then a thump on the floor.'

Jacob placed a hand under Cathy's left breast. He could feel her heart beat slow its pace then normalize. He was convinced that she simply fainted but her recovery was taking a long time. Jacob was aware that she had drifted back in time to Theodoric and Veneranda. He could do nothing except wait for her to return.

'Do you think she should be flat Jacob?'

'She's coming around now. We'll wait, I think. Just not sure what's going on with her.'

Hélène held her breath unsure how to proceed. Her granddaughter, and the amazing man she married, possessed great power and yet neither one could acknowledge or even suspect the obvious. It might have been funny in any other circumstances. Looking at both of them all she could see was that Cathy was semi conscious and blissfully unaware while Jacob just looked perplexed.

'I am so sorry Madame, I have not seen you since...' Jacob began to apologize and was quickly reassured.

'Don't worry. Cathy comes first no? That's how it should be.' Hélène smiled warmly before continuing. Jacob, please call me Mémé. It is a Francophone version of Grandmother. It would make me very happy.'

Jacob reached out a hand in acknowledgement. Their light talk helped to ease the stress of the moment. The soft voices soon penetrated Cathy's consciousness. She wasn'tt fully awake, but it did not take long for Jacob's own powerful vibration to regenerate her lagging energy. Cathy first became aware of the pressure of her husband's hand. Almost without her conscious knowledge she shifted it from her heart to her abdomen. Jacob's interpretation of the simple action was a pushback. Hélène, however, understood the silent message. Despite the promise to stay silent, her body language betrayed the personal vow. It didn't take long for Jacob to interpret the full meaning. To his credit, he kept silent, recognizing that Cathy's behaviour was still outside of her conscious control. His indrawn breath was palpable and his patience unending. Soft unintelligible murmurs and light movement indicated that Cathy was returning to the present. Recognizing that the couple might need a few minutes of privacy, Hélène excused herself, leaving Jacob to deal with Cathy in his own way.

A deep curiosity guided her steps out into the hall. She looked to her right just in time to see a head pull back. The sound of a door closing should have been enough to deter her from pursuing the woman who disappeared but Hélène was driven by more than her curiosity. The entire trip had been booked on the premise of helping her granddaughter understand this stranger. Cathy's temporary incapacity might put the interview on hold but not the need to connect.

Hélène understood that the woman had expressed fear of involvement by strangers but no one could approach this with more sensitivity than a woman who endured the brutality of an abusive husband and the loss of a child. She walked with purpose towards the door which had slammed shut and knocked on the small frosted glass window with a firmness she was far from feeling.

Hélène waited, heart pounding before knocking again. A crack appeared. Instead of the fully clothed woman, a young boy peeped out and spoke in halting French.

'What do you want?'

'I wish to speak with your mother please?'

He closed the door. No sound could be heard on the other side, but Hélène waited. She was sure that the plight of a displaced and abused woman struggling to find help for herself and her children would override any concerns. If it was the room of the woman in the traditional garb, she had already revealed something of herself. Within seconds, the door opened again.

'Come in please.'

Hélène didn't smile. She nodded, looking kindly on the young face. The room was semi dark. The curtains were drawn but did not obliterate the light completely. Seated on one of the beds was a woman dressed from head to foot. On the lower level of a bunk bed, a young child slept on, unaware of the events going on around its young body. Hélène wasn't sure if it was a boy or girl. Another child sat on the floor in a corner, playing with some toys. The room was small and sparse but clean. The beds looked comfortable. A mini desk was placed near a window. A couple of small chairs and a children's table occupied the other corner. It wasn't much but the alternative was unthinkable.

'If only my daughter had a place like this when she left home' Hélène thought grateful that her granddaughter was motivated to right the wrong for others. She didn't approach the women but spoke softly.

'Madame, I am here to help, nothing more. My granddaughter is recovering. I just wanted to reassure you.'

'Her husband is a handsome man. He loves her.'

'Yes he does. May I sit?' An elegant tilt of the head added grace to the simple request. Hélène watched as a beautifully soft unlined hand extended the invitation.

'I did not intend to speak with anyone but Madame Cathy.'

'I know, but she is weak right now and perhaps unable to be as effective as she would like.'

The covered head moved, giving every appearance of agreement. She turned and spoke rapidly in another language to her son, who had steadfastly refused to leave his mother's side. In complete obedience, he joined his sibling on the floor, glancing from time to time at the bed.

Hélène watched in amazement as Reiba pulled off the hood of her burqa. Young hands and a soft voice could not prepare Hélène for what she saw nor could she hide her shock at a full length of shimmering, silvery, hair which fell down around the youthful face in waves.

'My God! Your hair?' The words escaped her lips before she could stop them.

'My heritage and my curse.'

'I am not sure what that means Madame however, I do wish to help you. If I can be your voice and spare my granddaughter, at this time, then I would ask you to trust me.'

'You are too kind Madame.'

Leaning forward, the woman reached out a hand to touch Hélène. 'I sense your pain, born in a past, which informs the present.' Reiba stopped and bit her lower lip. A permanent indentation gave evidence of the frequency with which she had to hold herself in check. She gave a deep sigh before continuing.

'I am on a mission but I am also in need of protection. I cannot fight on two fronts.'

'Which one holds the highest priority, if I may ask?'

'Indeed Madame, the safety of my children takes precedence but I must also fulfill a destiny which is nearly a century old.'

If Hélène thought the pronouncement dramatic she gave no indication, remembering how Philippe, the father of her dead daughter, travelled all the way from Belgium to Montreal and made love to her just once to fulfill another destiny. The thought of Philippe gave Hélène an idea but she said would reveal nothing other than her willingness to help. In all things, she would be guided by her granddaughter but just once, in an effort to save time, she was happy to connect with Reiba, making a start on what promised to be another adventure.

'Tell me a little of yourself,' Reiba asked watching the play of emotions across Hélène's face.

'My name is Hélène. I am French Canadian...a Francophone, although my Father was not. I have five children. Cathy's mother was my eldest daughter, Madeleine.'

'Was Madame?'

'She has passed away.'

'Your grief remains palpable.'

'Yes, it is a long story which I will be happy to share another time.'

'Tell me more about you.'

'I am a mother first, and a grandmother. I like to think I am a good friend to those I love. My other passion is music. I sing a little,' she said with a modest shrug, 'teach piano skills and music appreciation to my students.'

'Ahhh music! Madame, you are exactly who I have been looking for!'

'Pardon?'

'I have documents which I do not understand but you will. Tomorrow, or when you are able to come back, please. I will be ready.'

If Hélène was shocked by the spontaneous hug which followed she gave no sign. She had successfully initiated contact with the woman and felt a measure of confidence that they could talk comfortably. She hoped that Cathy would not be upset by the intervention.

...

Jacob tightened his arms around Cathy. He wanted her to feel as secure as possible when she returned from whatever dimension held her hostage.

'Jacob, I love you,' she whispered at last. He could feel her warm breath on his neck.

'I know KitCat. I love you too. Are you back now?'

'I'm sorry. I have been so tired lately. This Diosa thing feels like an awful burden to bear. I don't think I'm ready.'

'You don't really have a choice about that, Sweetheart. Maybe you should see a doctor.'

'**You** are my doctor. Whatever I need, I can get from you and a good night's sleep,' she amended yawning. 'I am so tired,' she repeated frustrated by the unusual fatigue. Cathy did not move. If anything she cuddled closer to her husband, feeling safe and secure.

'You should see a medical doctor Cathy. I am a little worried.' His words held a hint of authority.

Cathy heard the concern but also the decisiveness in his tone and pulled away staring wide eyed at him. The depth of her gaze questioned his insistence. He grabbed her free hand, interlinking their fingers. Jacob longed to guide her towards the abdomen where new life seemed to be growing but he resisted. For some reason Cathy was determined or unable to acknowledge it.

Jacob released his fingers and allowed himself to trace soft circular lines around the face he loved so deeply.

'You know KitCat, when the Diosa persona comes to you, the energy that you need flows like a wave into your body, from the Source.'

'The source of what?'

'All life!'

'Right now it feels like the source is taking it all back.'

Jacob stifled a laugh. 'We can never lose the energy of that power. It flows to us from all the elements. We just need to access it.'

'Ok. Then teach me cuz I feel totally depleted right now.'

'I will KitCat. Right now, we need to get home. No more running around until you feel better.'

Jacob stood up lifting his wife easily from his lap. He gingerly allowed her legs to slide to the floor, using his body as a support. Cathy placed her feet apart for balance but some unsteadiness was apparent as she teetered forward. Jacob quickly clutched her around the waist not wavering as her prop. The action did anchor her body but as soon as his hands reached her abdomen, Cathy could feel a glowing light of awareness shoot through her body from the crown of her head to the most sacred part of her feminine being.

'Oh my God! What the hell! It feels like something just landed in my belly,' she announced, genuinely puzzled.

Placing both hands on her abdomen, she received the message which had been blocked at some level of her internal communication system. Cathy tentatively rubbed the area, using a circular motion, just above the pubic bone. A play of emotion was apparent on her face. Jacob could clearly see the light of awareness enter her conscious being and the wonder it brought to the face he loved so much.

'It's a baby. My God Jacob, I am pregnant! That's what it is...I'm having a baby.'

'Yes Cathy, we are having a baby!'

**….**

Although she had been busy earlier, Catherine found herself passing the time in daydreams, not of what might be in the days to come with Vincent but more of what was. The memory of Jacob's birth pulsated within her forcing what few memories remained into the conscious realm. While she could not have identified the importance of the connection to her current state, she knew that something about the birth was significant. The face of her lovely, forgiving adult son, smiling and happy appeared in her vision. She was thankful every day for the second chance to know and love him. The cell phone at her side beeped and she quickly left her daydreams to answer the call from the governor's office.

His secretary confirmed the appointment time in three days. She asked quite kindly if Catherine had accommodation set and seemed disappointed that the governor's guest had made her own arrangements. Catherine smiled. The trappings of the upstate mansion were not for her and a hotel room would not suit Vincent. Their time on Patrick's ranch would be special. She hung up the phone and went out into the kitchen to look for Rob who was waiting for instructions.

'Well you two look lost. Is anything wrong?' she questioned, noting that Rob and Sue seemed distracted.

'Things just got very still all of a sudden. It's like the world stopped for a moment. Happened to both of us. I wondered if there was an earthquake. Used to happen like that in California.' Sue seemed genuinely puzzled.

'I didn't feel anything. I will admit that I was daydreaming. If it wasn't for the phone call, I'd still be dreaming.'

'Bout what Catherine?'

'Why Jacob, of course!'

At that moment, the sound of the front door drew everyone's attention. Vincent's purposeful footfalls echoed throughout the downstairs. He seemed happy, light-hearted. One look at his face was enough to reassure everyone that the world had not stopped spinning. If Vincent thought it strange that three pairs of eyes followed his every move into the kitchen, he ignored the implications. A hug and kiss for his wife took precedence over anything else.

'Am I missing something?' he asked when not one word of greeting passed their lips.

'No, no, we are just happy to have you home. I have good news to share. We leave tomorrow.'

Vincent wasn't disappointed by the news but he was disconcerted. He was looking forward to the little trip but on the way home, he had noted a strange feeling, not of impending disaster but of some event which would be vital. Standing in the kitchen, his wife at his side and two pairs of eyes questioning did little to reassure him. In fact, he was almost afraid to give voice to his thoughts.

'I'm hungry,' he announced. If there was to be any discussion about an unsettling event, he would do so in private.

Sue was eager to do something and turned to check on the meal simmering on the stove. At the same time, Rob felt the beeper, tucked away on his belt, sound its alarm.

'Jacob and Cathy need a ride home,' he announced.

Everyone's concern heightened. The young couple rarely called for a lift.

'Hélène is with them,' Catherine said, as if that explained everything.

Rob rose from the table and headed out to the van while the others stood and watched, wordlessly. Their world had shifted but no one quite understood what that meant.


	7. Chapter 7

SVONVII

'I'm telling you Vincent, something strange is happening with Jacob and Cathy.'

'We agree on that. I think they are just worn out. Both of them do far too much. Jacob is planning on writing his exams next month. Then, the Governor's Ball is next week. I know that he is working hard at the office. Cathy never stops. Look what she has already done to help that lady at the Center and she's just one of many.'

Vincent paused for a breath then shook his head. He didn't want to spoil a minute of the mini vacation which Catherine arranged but in a very parental way, both of them sought to find answers to the complex personalities which pushed the two young adults to the limit. Catherine took her husband's hand and squeezed it warmly. She didn't want to dwell on events at home either but something was happening with her son and she couldn't put a finger on it. That Vincent uncharacteristically rambled on puzzled her.

'We won't be able to change anything today so let's just enjoy the trip, ok?'

'You're right. So, we have all day today to do nothing?'

'Not nothing! I suppose for you it will feel like nothing because you are usually so busy but everyday in every way, we are engaged in doing something or at least we should be. Stagnation is death.'

'You are very philosophical today.'

'You know, there are lots of people who love their jobs so much, they don't classify it as work. You are like that I think. Even if we didn't enjoy our activities at least we are moving. I did nothing for twenty years. It hurts my mind and heart every day to see myself as a vegetable. In retrospect, I would like to think that even a little part of me was engaged somewhere with you and Jacob.'

'I'm sorry Catherine. You are right. I could have said nothing like our usual activities. Now that you are back with me I tend to forget that we were ever apart.' Vincent was contrite but some unaccustomed anxiety made him uneasy. 'I am looking forward to exploring the land,' he said softly. 'I want to make an acquaintance with that magnificent horse, if she will allow.'

'I don't think there is anyone or anything that could fail to love you.'

'I hope to justify your supreme confidence in me.' He tilted his head in that way which made Catherine's heart beat a little faster.

'You already have! The look you just gave me proves my point. I love you so much.'

Some light-hearted and philosophical banter continued as mile after mile of ever changing scenery flew by. Rob, unlike Carl, said little. His thoughts while partially focused on the road ahead also filtered back to the house. In his mind, despite its impressive security system, the people inside were left unprotected. He had considered leaving Vincent and Catherine at the estate and returning to New York but a few final words from Jacob forestalled any concern.

'_I will feel better if you are with my parents. I can look after things here,_' he had said. None the less, Rob kept an extra cell phone which connected him directly to Sue. He could depend on her to call if anything went wrong.

An hour later, Catherine was the first to exclaim. 'I had forgotten how beautiful this place is!'

'I could only remember how beautiful you were,' Vincent rejoined.

Rob pulled up at the front portico. Patrick was home and waiting to welcome his childhood friend and her unusual husband. He was all smiles. There was no sign of Marian. Catherine breathed a sigh of relief.

'Come in my friends. It is such a pleasure to welcome you again.'

Patrick ushered the happy couple into his home, guiding them both to a smaller downstairs sitting room where pictures dotted the walls. An older man took their bags before returning to offer refreshments.

'Marcel will attend to Rob. We have a room ready for him. I assume he will stay?'

Catherine wasn't sure. She knew that Rob was worried about leaving the house in the city but Jacob was more than capable of watching over things. 'I'd like him to stay but it is his choice.'

Patrick nodded. The old friends chatted for a while. Vincent never had to moment to feel left out. Always gracious, Patrick included topics which he knew would be of interest to the very sheltered man seated rather uncomfortably in his cozy sitting room. He owed his life to Vincent but their shared love for Catherine would have been enough of a bond.

Catherine talked a little about her recent activity and a lot about her plans for the future.

'The governor can be quite demanding you know.' Patrick's warning clearly fell on deaf ears.

'So can I.'

'I do believe he has met his match. How do you feel about all of this Vincent?'

'When you have a day to listen, I will tell you all about the number of times that I had to track down my wife who insisted on being everywhere and doing everything as a prosecutor.'

'Dangerous work Catherine.'

'I know. I was younger then. It cost me a lot. After my misadventure this winter with Susanna I think it finally hit home that I can't keep putting my family at risk.'

'How will this be different?'

'I will be working only with people who are known to me. That small group will chose and vet volunteers who are interested in participating. It will never be perfect but I will feel safer.'

'I hope so Catherine. You are so special to all of us.' Patrick's smile included Vincent who nodded in complete agreement. 'Now, what would you like to do while you are here. I have some friends locally who...'

'No Patrick. We are...' Catherine stopped and turned towards her husband. 'We would like this time to be one of adventure.'

'What my wife is trying to say is that being out in the open is a new adventure for me. I can wander through Central Park but I feel its boundaries, especially in the daytime. There are none here and I would like to explore as far as the eye can see. Show me your farm and the animals and the land and what grows here.'

Patrick was speechless. For the second time since meeting Vincent, he became aware of how sequestered his life had been. 'My home is yours. I am somewhat limited with walking long distances but my brother Dinarte will be happy to guide you. Now that his English has improved, he is more sociable. He has come to love this place as much as my wife did, if not more. Having him here has been the best thing to happen, for both of us.'

Vincent smiled in response. He didn't want to impose but the offer was sincere. A quick look through the magnificent bay windows confirmed that the vast expanse of land waited for him to claim its beauty for the first time.

**…...**

'Are you sure Jacob?'

'I'm taking the day off.' The voice was insistent. 'You are more precious to me than anything. I need to feel reassured that you are ok.'

Cathy did feel comforted but she had a lot on her mind. 'Jacob, I have been taking the pill all along. Last night is the first time I didn't. It scares me to think of what that hormone might do to a baby.'

'We'll talk to a specialist. Obviously, it didn't have any impact on you getting pregnant. Wasn't the pill supposed to stop the egg or something like that?'

'Yes but so far this pregnancy doesn't feel like a conception. It feels like this baby was implanted in me while I was asleep, if that makes sense.'

'Well on a technicality it was implanted, but you weren't sleeping.' Cathy gave Jacob a poke in the ribs but she still blushed at the insinuation. 'The light you talked about yesterday was the life force which endows the developing body with spirit, at least that's how I see it.'

Cathy lay back and digested the information. She was so happy that Jacob decided to stay home. To say she was afraid was an understatement. They had talked about a pregnancy years ago when Mea was ill, needing a transplant. Jacob had his blood tested to see if he could be a donor for the little girl. At that time, they were told that any pregnancy carried some risks due to the DNA which Vincent handed down to his son. Cathy knew she could love any child no matter the looks but there was so much uncertainty. Privacy was essential and yet all the services available to a young expectant couple might be needed if the pregnancy proved to be complicated.

Their normal range of concerns was compounded by yet another issue which could create all kinds of problems. Cathy hesitated to introduce another wrinkle but felt the need to talk.

'Who will I give birth to Jacob? There is so much history. A lot of it, I don't understand. Holly gave birth to a boy. If I have a girl, who will she be? If it's a boy, will there be only one. I don't want to walk around with seven or eight babies in my belly, if that's even possible.'

'It is possible. I don't know what the outcome will be. The last leminscate was eight successive boys. I don't think she had them all at the same time but remember she was not a Diosa.'

'Should we go back in time and see?'

'No we should not! Let's just live with this moment and this time. There's enough for us to plan and work out. I don't want you to worry. An ultrasound will tell you what's going on in there, but before that I think we should go back and see Serge Correia. I trust him to guide us.'

Cathy rolled over on her side. 'I have some homework to do as well. I have never picked up a book about pregnancy in my life.'

'We'll do it together. From what I saw in the women living below, fatigue is a sign of early pregnancy. I am going to make a tonic for you but take it easy for now, ok?'

'Ok. When are we going to tell your parents?' she asked hearing the cell phone vibrate on the bedside table. It was a signal that Rob had arrived safely.

'If they don't know already, we'll tell them as soon as they get back,' he announced proudly. 'By the way, Mémé figured it out.'

'She did?'

'Mémé knows how to keep secrets. I am happy she's here to share this with you KitCat.'

'I hope she stays for awhile,' Cathy said wistfully.

'You brought her here for a reason. That still exists, right?'

'Oh my God! I forgot all about Reiba. I am sure she has some incredible story to tell Jacob. I don't have a clue what it's all about but I will need to speak with her.'

'We'll go later today. Right now I want you to rest.'

'Right now I want you to kiss me!'

Jacob hesitated but a fraction of a second. He knew where it might lead.

'I am already pregnant. I don't think it will change anything now.'

Jacob opened his mouth to express caution but it was soon covered with a hand, then lips.

…...

'I wonder what's up with those kids. They are usually down and out of here early.'

'There's a lot of activity at the Sanctuary. I think Jacob is just tired too. Cathy told me he was very busy at work.' Hélène offered the information casually.

'She's a good person that granddaughter of yours, but she does work too hard. I remember when the kids were living here and the little one was so sick. Cathy stayed at the hospital for weeks until the child was better.'

'I heard a little bit about them. Mea and Cilla right?'

'Yeah, we miss 'em but they are with family.'

'Speaking of family, I met Erin yesterday. She is an extraordinary dressmaker.'

'She is. She can make something out of nothing.'

Hélène nodded. 'I hear that apart from being an extraordinary cook, you also do personal care, hairdressing and anything else asked of you.'

'Catherine allows me to do anything which makes me happy. I don't deserve her being so considerate, you know. When I first had her care, I made a lot of mistakes. I didn't pay attention to getting her better. In those days I was only interested in getting my paycheck. I feel bad about it now but back then, I was told she was a vegetable. I can't do enough now even though she doesn't really need me.' Sue hung her head, still amazed that Catherine could be so generous.

'Redemption! We don't' always get a chance to right wrongs. No matter how you feel, I think you are still indispensible to this family.'

Sue crinkled up her nose, uncomfortable with praise she didn't feel she deserved. 'Sounds kind of religious.'

'Not so much religious as spiritual. We all need liberation for our troubled souls sometimes.'

Sue remained silent digesting the information. A deep sigh indicated that she took the information to heart. Its truth soothed her soul. To avoid releasing years of pent up tears, she adopted her usual brisk tone. 'Is everything alright with the kids? They usually come down to eat.'

'I prepared some tea this morning and told them to stay in bed. I won't get to do that very often.'

Sue raised surprised eyebrows. It was a rare occurrence for both of them not to be up and about especially since Cathy's grandmother was visiting. She had something on her mind but chose instead to close her mouth and do what she did best.

'If they're not going to eat dinner, they gotta let me know. No point cooking if no one is here to eat.'

**…...**

'Cathy is not coming today Madame. I hope you won't mind too much.'

'She is better?'

'Yes but her husband insisted on rest and I agreed. He is home with her, so I am here with you.'

The two women were able to sit and talk undisturbed. Her eldest son was watching his siblings who were being supervised by other mothers while working on age appropriate projects in the children's area.

Reiba didn't prevaricate. Clearly, there was an urgency to the mission which she kept from the eyes and ears of her children. It was apparent in the hurried way in which she removed a leather bound booklet from under her clothes, prepared to get right down to business.

'We don't have much time. I know my husband. He will find me. I cannot stay here forever.'

'Then let's not waste any time. Tell me what you want me to do.'

'Madame, in this leather binder, is all I know of my paternal grandfather. I believe, he was a brave but sensitive man struggling to find a place to live in freedom. As far as I know he left my grandmother when she was pregnant promising to send for her once he settled in America. For a few months after he left, he sent back these papers to her. Only she could understand what they meant.'

With utmost care, Reiba opened the leather cover. It wasn't, strictly speaking, a book. It was an old fashioned binder, tied together with a leather ribbon. Inside were several sheets of paper. The pages were yellowed and faded in some places. There were no handwritten notes, only a series of musical notes, set like sheet music with all the notations one might see in a conductor's copy.

Helene ran an experienced eye over the top page. She felt exceedingly nervous about touching the sheets which looked as if they would crumble easily. At a glance, the melody of the top sheet was haunting and sad. Hélène hummed the notes out loud.

Reiba sat and listened. Tears began to fill her eyes.

'Do you know this music?'

'I do. My Father used to hum it over and over. This binder belongs to a collection of things left behind after his death. Everything has a story, I just don't know what. Before my father died, he called me to his side and said, '_find the truth'_.

'Tell me about yourself Reiba. I know nothing of your life or your country and I need that story to help this...make sense.'

I will start but we only have a few minutes. This half hour play time is all the freedom they allow. I don't want my children to hear what I have to tell you, at least not now.'

'Start wherever you feel comfortable.'

'Madame, I am an Afghan woman. At the beginning of the last century, my family was exiled in Syria. When King Amanulla came to the throne, he recalled those people to come back and help rebuild Afghanistan. You know we are descendants of the Persians and we are Zoroastrian. Among the families who returned was a young woman named Soraya, who eventually married the King's son. Not only was she beautiful but she was highly intelligent and educated. At that time, thanks to the modern ways of the king and queen, many of the elite believed in equality of the sexes so our women were as highly educated as the men.'

Although she had also been well educated, Hélène was surprised by the information, assuming, like many others that the women of the middle east had been denied any opportunity to study, work or advance.

'I see your surprise. This covering I wear forces me into a deceit which I abhor.'

'My apologies. We don't always reach out to our world sisters to understand and learn.'

Reiba smiled and continued. 'My grandmother was a great admirer of Soraya. In the 1920's, as Queen of Afghanistan, she chose some young women to go to Turkey for further education. My grandmother was among them and after her studies returned to Afghanistan to work as a teacher and remain by choice, unmarried. Later in her life, she was forced into a relationship brought on by the changing tribal dynamics in the society of Afghan, which seemed to take a step backward for women.'

Reiba stopped, taking a deep breath. 'My grandmother's Pashtun husband was the complete opposite. Once they were married, he forced her into the Hijab and prevented her from working. A late pregnancy just reinforced the confinement.'

Helen bowed her head to hide the tears which filled her eyes. She could feel the power of the story. Although she had not been forced to cover up, the pressure exerted by her controlling husband almost took away the will to fight back. In a sudden reversal of roles, that beautiful hand offered comfort before its owner resumed her story.

'My mother was very sheltered, as you can imagine. She was however extremely well educated. Everything my grandmother learned, she taught her daughter, my mother. To say my mother was a good student is an understatement. She was brilliant. She absorbed everything. When she surpassed my grandmother's knowledge, she struggled to find ways, in a restrictive society, to find access to other texts. I think Madame, that this fact led her to accept the offer to marry my father, a man so remote from everything she had ever known.' Reiba bit her lip in the way that indicated some distress.

Hélène marveled at the depth of perception shown by the young woman. The story was totally believable. Helene also realized that she would have some homework to do. Much of the history within the region was beyond her basic knowledge. A little research would add colour around the edges of the story.

'I think I will stop there today, Madame. My children will return. I need a little time to think about my father and what ...what he would wish me to share.'

'I understand.'

'Please take this binder and learn what you can about my grandfather from his music. Next time I will tell you about my father. Perhaps we can connect them together in death as they never were in life.'

'I will keep it safe Madame.'

Hélène left the sanctuary under the watchful eye of Carl. She was not shocked by Reiba's story but consumed with curiosity about the woman, her life, the culture, and the country of her origin. Cathy could help with the research. Her granddaughter was very resourceful. However, Hélène would need a piano to decipher the music. Somewhere in the notes and cadenza was a message of longing and hope.


End file.
